Clayhill - Clayhill

Track List:

1. Figure Of Eight
2. Northern Soul
3. Mystery Train
4. Face Of The Sun
5. Grasscutter
6. Funny How
7. Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want
8. Disscordents

Running time: 36 minutes
Released: 2005

And so I come to a draft that has been sat around for a couple of years.

This post almost appeared titled incorrectly as "Acoustic", for that is how it lived in my library for too long. In sourcing the track list and image I realised my error and re-titled it appropriately so that it can appear in the right place at the right time. It is an acoustic album and "Acoustic" is often added to the name in references, it would seem. Oh well, correction made.

Clayhill are made up of bassist Ali Friend (of Red Snapper and The Imagined Village), vocalist Gavin Clark (Sunhouse, UNKLE) and Ted Barnes (who did work with Beth Orton, as well as solo). Friend's name may have been enough to get me to look them up, but I think I cottoned on to them via Red Snapper's Redone - an album of remixes and a notable cover of Odd Man Out. It isn't credited as Clayhill, but it is Friend, and Clark for sure; not sure about Barnes. The latter's voice was stunning and I was hooked.

This is the first midweek listen I have managed in I don't know how long, and I am able to fit it in only because I bailed on a roleplaying session after three really bad nights of sleep. I am far too busy to find time for everything I have to do and everything I want to do, and getting the rest and recuperation I need to function. Oh well; the late Gavin Clark delivers a soft, almost apologetic song over a simple guitar hook supported by Friend's upright bass. Figure of Eight is a tune based on simplicity for the most part. The trio play off each other well. The bass is subtle and fills in the gaps behind the guitar, which is plucky and bright as it slides under the nasal, drawn out tones of our vocalist. 

As much as I like Figure of Eight, there are two tracks on this album I really adore. The first is Northern Soul - though I am more familiar with the original recording on Small Circle, it is impressive how well the sound transfers to the striped back version here. This song has a punchier hook, a twangier bass, a firmer vocal and a chorus that strikes a chord even though I am a softy southerner not a hardy northern type. The little fussy, busy bits of guitar work are a joy and I imagine they had great fun recording this track - it has that kind of positive energetic style coming through the speaker. The other song that matches this is their cover of The Smiths' Please Please Please... (The Smiths, for disclosure, are not a band I have in my library - though like every human being alive I have a soft spot for the guitar on This Charming Man).

Ali Friend is a musical chameleon - a running thread through disparate groups in my collection, popping up backing people unexpectedly. I love his bass work. Videos of live sets and tracks from Red Snapper burned that love into me a long time ago and it has never left. The sorrowful twang that he gets onto some of his notes here is gorgeous and dovetails nicely with the hurt that Clark injects into his long vowels.

This is exactly the type of low-key music I need on a night like this. I go on holiday in a week, but I have a ton of stuff to wrap up before then... and my ability to do so may well depend on how well I can relax and find sleep this evening. Anything that helps me drift into a loose state is good, and there is a nice laziness to Clayhill's music that helps the mood. It's not chill out fare really, but the tones are low and soothing. The vocal is often challenging and emotional but it is the frequency of the instruments that I find cathartic - mostly the bass, but the guitar doesn't wander off too much either.

I am not that keen on Grasscutter, possibly because it features on three of the 4 Clayhill albums I have and as such it comes up more often than it should. It also devolves into repetition too much for my liking. I think I might trim this version. We then hit the final trio - songs which do not appear on the other Clayhill discs. Funny How doesn't ring any bells for me until Clark hits the chorus and then it finds familiarity. I really like the interplay here, but above all it is the tone - pleading yet wronged, defiant yet downcast. I find little contrasts like that throughout the song, which is a nice touch in my book, and makes up for the fact it sits between me and the heartbreak of Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want.

Slow, deliberate, nail through the hand hurt. Every note and word here is pitched for maximum emotional impact. As someone who has gone through periods of depression in the past where it felt nothing was going my way the song resonates. As alluded to above I am not really familiar with the original, but this is frankly so good that I don't feel the need to be. Here - I am feeling like sharing the love:

The final track is always going to be a bit of a come-down after that. It is a slow, slow number. Very sparse, drawn out words. I like it, but I miss most of it as I got distracted by a work email, just as the US working day is closing. Oh well (I seem to say that a lot).

Beautiful Skeletons - Gavin Clark

Track list:

1. Crazy
2. Spinning Round the Sun
3. Hurricane
4. Black Blood
5. Crazy On the Weekend
6. Elaine's Place
7. Never Came for Us
8. Spotlight for Sunshine
9. Stems
10. The Russian
11. Calling in the Cards
12. The Years Have Loved Us
13. When We Had Faces
14. Painted Glass
15. Raise a Vein
16. Open & Shut Case
17. Low Are the Punches
18. Never Seen the Sea
19. The Lost Choices
20. Roll Away Remain
21. Bermondsey Stutter
22. I Dreamt of God

Running time: 76 minutes
Released: 2014

So my next post was supposed to be Clayhill, which will now come next. In setting that post up I found out two things. One, that Gavin Clark had passed away 2 years ago and two, that he left this album behind when he did, so I bought it.

This is a first listen, a first listen in 3 weeks of ridiculous busy life, and a rather unknown quantity. It might have been done sooner had it not been quite so long, but still.

Crazy sounds like it must have been very early in his career. Clark's voice doesn't have the refined edge, or depth, to it that characterised the vocal that I am familiar with. The song is rather bland for it, too, but it short and past quickly. The next track is, like the first, a simple acoustic guitar tune with Clark's vocal. I recognise the song, from Sunhouse's Crazy on the Weekend.  There are a couple more here from that album, too - no surprise since Gavin Clark was the vocalist. I don't remember the tune, despite recognising it - but I suspect that the Sunhouse version has more to recommend it - a greater depth of sound, and a more mature vocal performance.

Ah, there. Hurricane (also a Sunhouse track) finally exhibits Clark's voice with the distinctions that endeared him to me on a cover of Red Snapper's Odd Man Out with his Clayhill bandmates. This tune I really like. It is also a simple number, but there is a harmonica or something in there too, giving a bit more of a layered sound. The three elements combine well and it slips by nicely. It is a dreamy number in some ways, more reminiscent of summer days than hurricane winds.

Gavin Clark falls into a sizable bucket of charismatic but flawed singers that I like. Character of voice is sometimes more powerful than pitch perfection. There is a gravelly note to it, a fag-burned, whisky soaked rawness and authenticity. A plaintive tone, a vulnerability dressed up in manliness. A warmth, a reality. When a voice like this is on song... ugh, train of thought broken by horrible overdrive and feedback screech on an electric guitar. Once I adjust to the screechy sound it's not so bad, but it stood out a mile from what went before and what comes immediately after. Not a nice surprise sound at all.

We hit a run of very short tracks - as in sub-2 minutes. I tend to find short tunes distracting... not enough time to get into them or have them really tell their tale. That said short and focused can really work. Here the tunes rather drift by - nothing particularly standing out. I find myself wondering about the whys and wherefores of these recordings. Clearly some are early demos of tunes cut later with bands, but even after I heard his voice and knew who he was, Clark had no profile as a solo artist that I was aware of - more as a voice for hire - e.g. with UNKLE.

The overall theme here seems to be confessional, almost apologetic. The soft meandering guitar work, the slow and deliberate vocals. Black Blood, with its harsh electrics feels like a massive curveball given the context of the rest thus far.

Ooh, there is bit more depth and life again in The Russian. A plinky-plonky nature to the sound gives it both a hint of the Old West and a breath of new life. This time the tonal shift works because it is not a complete change of instrument - it is still very much an acoustic string-lead piece, just with the additional backing of a keyboard. Clark gives it some solemnity over the top of a simple enough but lively tune, and I find the overall effect quite enjoyable. My general opinion on this collection is that it is so-so, however my affinity for Clark's voice is such that he can elevate some frankly underwhelming songs to enjoyable pass-times. He didn't have the songwriting chops of a Tom Waits, the croon of a Terry Callier, but he had heart, soul and sincerity which go quite a long way.

I find myself without many thoughts worth sharing. Too much is either a repetition of something said above or without relevance to the tunes at hand. I would happily digress but those thoughts are rather... dull and typing anything at all pulls me out of the stupour, the gentle state of relaxation that I am finding myself collapsing in to. It is good to have got to this at last, for it is the low-key evening that I needed, yet still productive.

There is no pace to the tracks, they all seem to be sedate numbers. Lazy reverie. The pace of the album as a whole is odd - shaken up not by changes to pace or tone of the tracks (Black Blood and The Russian as notable exceptions here - for worse and better), but by the variable lengths. This last quarter of the collection looks likely to be the most samey as everything here is ~3.30 or more. To be clear I don't mind this. The gentle pace fits quite well with how I am feeling, the end of the middle day of a long weekend. I seriously doubt I would ever choose these tracks as my poison for any given scenario, but I have to say that I am enjoying not taking it too seriously, kicking back and letting it wash over me. The familiarity of Clark's voice allows for that.

Never Seen the Sea is familiar, too; it was on the soundtrack to This is England (director Shane Meadows knew Clark well) - a series I never watched, but I have the soundtrack to all the same. This track has more depth to it. It is a shame that more here doesn't have that to be honest. Clark is generally good to listen to, but a good vocal still benefits from a good crucible. I find myself checking what is left to run because The Lost Choices sounded so much like a closer, but there are a few more to go yet. There is a tiredness creeping in to Clark's delivery it seems to me... but maybe I am projecting that. A definite sad tinge to the pieces though.

Listening to dead musicians is a weird thing. It is one thing if they died before I heard them, but it feels quite different listening to those that have died since I discovered them. That goes double for those that die young. It doesn't really feel like I'm listening to a ghost, but it does rather make one think of one's own mortality. That eerie feeling is intensified on the final track, with it's title and lyrics of dreaming of God. I'm not religious at all so the thought of reaching out to something beyond the real applies to deities and spectres in equal measure.

Then all is quiet.

The Cinematic Orchestra Presents: In Motion #1 - Various Artists

Track list:

1. Necrology - The Cinematic Orchestra
2. Lapis - Austin Peralta
3. Outer Space - Dorian Concept & Tom Chant
4. Dream Work - Dorian Concept & Tom Chant
5. Entr'acte - The Cinematic Orchestra
6. Regen- Gary Reverend
7. Manhatta - The Cinematic Orchestra

Running time: 79 minutes
Released: 2012

I love The Cinematic Orchestra. There is something about their style of modern jazz that clicks for me. I am not sure that this will exemplify that though, as it is not really a Cinematic Orchestra album - a greater number of the tracks are contributed by others. I don't remember this one at all really, so it's a step into the unknown a little.

This is a collection of 7 long pieces, soundtracks to short films I think. The opening track is the shortest at over 8 minutes, so I anticipate plenty of time to reflect over the next hour and a half. There are 4 tracks in the middle by invitees, but the album is bookended by the Cinematics. Necrology gets us underway with an assertive rhythm-led piece, keys sparkling above it, light touch space forming around it. As we hit the halfway mark there is a more fully formed melody that shares the track with the drum riff, when suddenly both drop out giving a pause for breath, a sense of wonder and reverence. When the tune picks up again, the drum influence is gone for a while; it rejoins, softer than before, still central, but not as dominant.

I have to say, I rather like it. It doesn't have the same instinctive appeal as the works that drew me to The Cinematic Orchestra in the first instance, but it is very much enjoyable.

Austin Peralta's piece, Lapis, is more strings and classical forms. My initial impressions are so-so. Nice enough but not compelling. That feeling persists 3 minutes in, and whilst the track starts to grow it isn't stirring any great emotion in me as I sit with my breakfast and (decaf) coffee. The first point the tune really grabs my attention is 2/3rds of the way through, it goes still, sparse; every note more important for that. Alas, it is dealing with really high ranges, at which I find the strings more of a screech than a pleasant sound. The overall effect of the piece is pastoral. Whilst those straining high notes introduce a tension to it, that tension is quickly sliced through and comes at the expense of me being thrown out of whatever picture I conjured to the tune prior. From there, we head into space...

My first thoughts about this first of two contributions from composers Dorian Concept and Tom Chant are... well, it doesn't really sound that space-like. Devoid a visual to accompany, this feels decidedly less space-like than, say, Mogwai's Atomic does, to pick something I had cause to listen to part of recently. The disconnect between the title and the actual tune grows wider when a horn pipes up and takes centre-stage. Despite that, I find that the tune is sliding by quite fast, certainly not dragging or feeling unwelcome. Unfortunately I miss the rest of the track as I find that I need to fiddle with my bike lights, charging by USB, as I will be cycling later. Bloody USB splitter was only directing any power to one of them, so I had to play about, unplug my mouse and get them both charging that way. Ugh.

Ironically, Dream Work has plenty of the spacey sounds that Outer Space was lacking, an effect conveyed by soft electronic edges to many of the sounds, and a lot more room to breathe around the major themes. For all that, I don't find myself enchanted by it, there are hard edges to a lot of the sounds - the horns in particular - and it is a touch disjointed for me. It feels like the roomy sounds, smooth strings and the staccato horns are all from different compositions that just happen to be overlaid and playing concurrently. This track does feel like it is dragging by the time it starts to wrap up, to be replaced by a 20 minute epic from the Cinematics. I am grateful for the shift.

The opening of Entr'acte is very soft, quiet and understated. When the sound does rise, it is clear that whilst The Cinematic Orchestra might be the artist credit, this is not in the same vein as most of their work. The long drawn out string notes are nice, the sense of space is very much in keeping with their other work, but this is not a lush jazzy sound. This is a mood piece more reminiscent of a Vangelis or a Sigur Rós; I find myself thinking of Soil Festivities in some places, and the general feel of the Icelandic group's quieter tracks at others.

About 6 and a half minutes in there is a shift in tone, it gets a little darker and more tense. That feeling is intensified as we get a creeping bass sound, which is then overlaid by a sort of shredded pulse sound that I cannot work out. Sounds build around this unsettling centre and it swells until we hit a clear call of a note. Then silence. A piano - a melody like To Build a Home from Ma Fleur. Stirring, beautiful. This sits in the middle of the piece, a clear shift from what went before. I don't think this is really one piece in any real sense. The silences between movements belie that. The melody grows into something only to then immediately die out and shrink back. Strings come to swell the overall sound, but at the same time restore that love of the note unplayed, which seems to be a feature of Cinematics compositions.

This time we get a nice crescendo, a real sense of something building up, a subtle groove to the tune, jazz drumming under the classical swell. Oh yes. The top end gives out to frenetic strings as the drums grow in volume and pace. Those strings open out into more beautiful long notes, contrasting with the tight, breathy drums. The latter half of this piece has been top notch... as I say that we hit a snag in the last couple of minutes, as it turns into a twee little ramble then ends on a dark discord. All a little out of place. That detracts from the brilliance of minutes 12-18 in an unfortunate way, but cannot spoil my overall impression of the piece.

Two to go, and another 20 minutes. The Grey Reverend track, Regen, is also credited as a J. Swinscoe (the driving force behind the Cinematics) composition in my file metadata but I have no idea whether this is true. Googling Grey Reverend shows him to be another Ninja Tune artist, a collaborator with The Cinematic Orchestra, and a guitarist. That makes sense as the centrepiece of Regen is a guitar melody which acts as the frame to hang some emotional strings from. The tune meanders along pleasantly but unremarkably, then drops dead at around 7 minutes. It starts again very different, again re-enforcing the idea that these aren't really single tracks. The guitar is sharper, crisper, in this new tune, it stands more or less alone this time, there are other sounds there but they are distinctly second-fiddle and subservient. It is gentle, a stroll, though there seem to be the odd stray notes here and there that make it less comforting than I feel it should be. I don't dislike this piece at all, but at the same time I find it hard to really like, too.

The final piece, back in the hands of the Cinematic Orchestra, is very much movie-music. You feel like the track title is missing the final n, but the piece reflects nothing of Manhattan to me (though I've only been there the once; what do I know) so I wonder if that is meant to be an association we draw or not. The tune is nice, if not enthralling, but I have to admit I find my attention wandering. This has been a long listen and whilst it has been primarily positive, much of it is not the kind of thing you really get into, you know? The tracks are too long for that, and they are cut adrift a little without the visuals they were meant to accompany. As such I feel a tinge of gladness as the final refrains kick in then die down. There is a time and a place for these tunes, and I don't really feel that that is one after the other like this.

The Cake Sale - The Cake Sale

Track list:

1. Last Leaf
2. Vapour Trail
3. Black Winged Bird
4. Some Surprise
5. All the Way Down
6. Too Many People
7. Good Intentions Rust
8. Needles
9. Aliens

Running time: 34 minutes
Released: 2006

I am pretty sure that the main reason I picked this up was because I really loved Lisa Hannigan's Sea Sew. The Cake Sale is a charity album by a mostly Irish congregation of other musicians. Hannigan is joined by Gemma Hayes (whose debut Night on My Side was a staple of my university years) and Neil Hannon (of The Divine Comedy) in terms of other artists from my library, and many other who I don't have work by. Damien Rice wrote one of the tunes. However I am sure those were happy coincidences, and it was Hannigan whose work convinced me to pick this up. The songs appear now and again on a shuffle and I never recognise them when they do. The 2006 date apparently was Ireland only, it being released almost a year later in the UK. Huh.

Enough irrelevances, on to the tunes.

We start with Lisa, a husky vocal intro. There is a soul to the singing that I rather like, but the minimalist arrangement in the first minute or so leaves something to be desired. It becomes a more enjoyable piece of music once we get a little more instrumentation. It's still fairly light, giving her hushed voice a lot of space in the verse, then building the support through the chorus, led by a piano melody in one instance, strings in another. Simple little tunes, but very welcome. Then the piece is done and we're on to the next. Vapour Trail is bland to begin with, both in the tune and in song. It sounds like an understated TV theme tune for some dull suburban show, and fails to grow on me as it goes. The arrangement is flat and the singer just does nothing for me. It is not actively unpleasant but it offers me no hook, nothing to get into. Its wallpaper music, lift music, fill silence with something everyone can tune out music. Characterless.

The tempo and tone to Black Winged Bird is similarly dull, but the clear chime of the piano keys offers a small amount of depth to it which has the effect of making it feel so much better than what came before. The vocal is also more appealing - apparently the lead singer of Swedish popsters The Cardigans, though I would never know from the sound. The voice soars over the melody in a nice clear duality, a contrast that helps lift the piece. Here the backing grows through the song, too, becoming richer and, whilst it never rids itself of the whiff of the generic, it at least grows to an enjoyable climax. When it finishes we are served up a stripped back number, with a voice that sounds really familiar. Snow Patrol's lead, apparently, duetting with Hannigan again. Funny though - I never got into Snow Patrol, but I did to their other big collective effort (this time mostly Scottish) The Reindeer Section. However that isn't really where it sounds familiar from. Funny how the human brain can mix up so many different things. For all that waffle (the song has gone), its a dull track.

Oh how navel-gazingly trite. Gemma Hayes' effort here is so waifish and fragile that it evokes the same kind of reaction I had to her third album - ennui. As mentioned above, her debut was a real favourite for a while - it had personality, emotion - including this fragility, but going beyond it. The follow-up had its moments too, but by the time the third came out it felt like an almost broken shell was all that was left. This tune grows in the arrangement before it ends, but it never gets beyond disappointing.

Disappointing seems to sum up this collection thus far as the next tune falls into the trap of featurelessness and a sense that you couldn't pick this out from a line up of acoustic indie tunes. The vocal is alright, I guess - which is about the most positive thing I have ever had to say about Glen Hansard, who at one point seemed to be about the most overrated thing on the singer/songwriter scene. At this point I am hoping that Hannigan's Rice-penned tune and Hannon's offering redeem the purchase, though it hasn't been a complete washout, because Lisa Hannigan; her voice is one of those I hear and just enjoy.

Needles has a slow tempo, a sombreness that is very Rice. I think the application of backing "oohs" threatens to overwhelm and ruin the understated vocal, Hannigan singing at barely above a whisper, a sense of gravity that matches the stately pace. Those chorus oohs though, they are awful. Completely destroying the pleasant ambience of the verse. There isn't anything particularly special about the track, but it is solid in a way that earlier offerings on the disc have not been. You couldn't say this was any less generic than some of the other tunes preceding it, but it is more solidly built around its theme. That bloody backing track aside it was a nice tune.

We end with Hannon singing about Aliens for 6 and a half minutes. He sounds almost stereotypically Bowie-like in places here, a weird fragility and affected delivery. I was never a Bowie fan and I am sure they would all be appalled with the comparison. The song is... well lets just say it isn't in danger of rescuing the album for me. I rather like Hannon's voice, I rather like his willingness to fit into different roles, genres, styles for his work. I don't even mind his Bowie impression, but frankly songs about Aliens need something compelling to sell them and that is really lacking here. Likewise songs that push 6 minutes need something to maintain engagement for that long. Lacking here. It does offer me the sop of long lonely notes - almost like a certain Icelandic post-rock group who I won't name for fear of running the tags too long - but even that is not enough to save it. The denouement starts some 40 seconds before the end and all it does is draw out the same dull loop a little longer, slower and more dull.

Overall then? Not at all what I was hoping. I genuinely like the first track, and a couple of others had their moments but... weak. Really weak. There is a sense of self pity, a downbeat nature to the disc which - given the title and the fact it was a charity record - is pretty much the opposite of what I would have expected. An utter disappointment.

Alba - Markus Stockhausen and Florian Weber

Track list:

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

Running time: 61 minutes
Released: 2016

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blur: The Best of - Blur

Track list:

1. Beetlebum
2. Song #2
3. There's No Other Way
4. The Universal
5. Coffee & TV
6. Parklife
7. End of a Century
8. No Distance Left to Run
9. Tender
10. Girls & Boys
11. Charmless Man
12. She's So High
13. Country House
14. To the End
15. On Your Own
16. This Is a Low
17. For Tomorrow
18. Music Is My Radar

Running time: 77 minutes
Released: 2000

I was never a fan of Blur during the Britpop years, not them, not the other lot, nor the horde of wannabe copycats that peddled indie guitar music of various degrees of blandness. I did fall for Embrace briefly though - as mentioned here. I warmed to them retrospectively, though Damon Albarn's other work (I have a trainwreck of an album from Graham Coxon too). Not enough to acquire actual albums, but enough to pick up the best of. I haven't re-engaged with their reformation either.

It's been an odd week; although I've been at home all evening for the last 4 days, only yesterday, Friday, was completely clear and then I was just so washed out from work (an attempt to get away early failed) that tucking into this was not an option. I am doing so now instead of Christmas shopping or a plethora of other things that maybe I ought to do today. Oh well. Beetlebum has a scuzzy feel to it - appropriate for my low mood and layabout levels of success today - but largely washes over me without much in the way of serious consideration. It seems to me to be a bit of a strange choice to open the collection with - not particularly catchy, not a stand out for good or bad, and possessed of a long outro that makes it feel more like a closer. The polar opposite of the tight and punchy Song #2 in that regard. This is a Marmite track - not because you either love or hate it, but more specifically I can love or hate it depending on when I hear it. It suits certain emotions, situations and contexts better than others. Today's context is actually rather neutral.

We finally get to something a bit catchier; there is something about Albarn's vocal on There's No Other Way which validates the laziness I feel right now, and a reassurance about the riffy composition. I don't feel a strong connection to the track though, and I suspect this is going to be one of those really annoying posts where my dominant mood blunts interaction with the album I am consuming in any meaningful sense. Its as if I am more filling out an hour than really listening to this disc.

Overuse in adverts has not spoiled The Universal though. I never connected the tune, and thus those ads, with Blur at all at the time, because they never used the voice and I wasn't familiar with the song. OK, so Albarn's voice is kinda annoying on the chorus and the lyric leaves a lot to be desired but the core tune is so solid that it has a timeless quality to it, those iconic strings setting the whole thing up. I have been toying with the idea of another crappy project... some kind of micro-blog of all the plentiful bad ideas and stream of consciousness rubbish that my head fills up with when I am on my own - which is most of the time. I have an unquiet mind, and it drives me crazy. Sharing that madness with an uncaring world could release the pressure valve that generates such nonsense. Or not. Won't happen though - no smartphone so no access to post when my mind is at its worst - i.e. when trapped, solo, nothing doing.

I am not feeling this at all. Coffee & TV slides by like traffic outside behind a closed curtain - I am aware it is there but only dimly so. I think I don't like the song, and the occasional use of discordant sounds or effects make it worse. Be gone! Parklife slides past too, which is a more reliable barometer of my engagement level. This is another Marmite tune. I appreciate its attempt at peppiness - the clean snap and hard edges to the riffs give it a liveliness that is welcomed, but beyond that... not today.

I do dislike winter; its not been cold yet this year but the wind has been so constant, rattling around in the chimney, and the whole getting dark mid-afternoon thing is interminable. Its not a time of year I want to have to go out and traipse around shops as we are expected to do in the run up to Christmas. This year my mind and energy levels are balking even at the idea of online shopping. Bah humbug and all that. Working 2 more weeks yet; it all feels a fair way away still. I don't recognise No Distance Left to Run at all, but I like its rather downbeat air, subdued, more in tune with how I feel right now. Its down, but there is brightness there in spots - very high, very soft, keyboards giving nice clean tones. It is just enough of a sprinkle of optimism to stop the lead weights pulling it down.

Tender is... I am not sure it is likely to survive the day. It is a mix of a nice cadence with a tuneful, if muted, singing, and horrible harmonies, really annoying lines and alternate vocalists. Listening now, the tune just does not work. When Damon is singing on his own in the verse, there's a nice little semi-country feel to the music, the rest of the time there is some presence or other that sets my teeth on edge. Oh, and then there is the fact it goes on for 7 minutes 40 seconds, slowly spinning round between the shorter pleasantries and the longer stretches of needling. I don't think I can put up with that again. And that, (absent) ladies and gentleman is only half way.

I am grateful for the staccato and electronic sounds of Girls & Boys mixing things up. It is a complete palette cleanser after the tedium of Tender. Its not a song to hang much cogent discussion on (though to be honest the paras above probably prove I am not up to cogent discussion!), and you can definitely criticise it for its uniformity and lack of change up once it establishes itself, but in the context of the rest of the album, it's a really well placed number, stirring this listener, ending in good time and giving way to a tune that I completely fail to recognise until the words hit my ear. I think I generally prefer Blur when they inject some kind of catchiness, which here is provided by the nah-nah-nahs and the bass hammering note after note.

I didn't recognise She's So High at all, passed me by. Country House next, its not a good song but it has that catchy rhythm which makes it far more engaging than several better tracks and I find myself enjoying its breeziness up until the point that they inject a slow sad sound in the middle of it. That passes quickly but the mindless magic has been punctured by the abrupt nature of the switch in tempo and mood and I find myself wishing it over before it finishes. The final quarter of this disc is made up of track titles I don't know, but unsurprisingly To The End is more familiar once it starts, if only in the chorus. I like the more open sound of this track, the greater arrangement - with the core band part being relatively small or simple, though the drums get a bit too repetitive for my liking. The soaring strings my favourite touch, though Albarn's more open singing helps too. Ah yeah. Should have recognised On Your Own as a title - never mind. No, this one I don't like, maybe I had blanked it. Rhyming psycho killer and gorilla sums it up. Oddball. I don't see anything in this.

I feel like I should be near the end, but the last three tracks are all over 5 minutes long so there's almost half an album to go by the measure of some recent listens. The first of those three is a distant song - music seeming much closer to the ear than vocal. It feels muted or matured somehow, more rounded. I rather like the way the zenith points seem to have the guitars rebelling against that maturity rather than working within it, making their mournful cries heard and carrying more weight for it. The song rather peters out, which is a shame but it was a nice little surprise for me. Whilst I did not recognise This is a Low even after it started, I do recall For Tomorrow now I hear it. I don't think much of it as it seems to be caught between two (or even three) stools. Catchiness, poppiness, and the rounder more mature sound. There are bits and bobs from these three approaches sprinkled over this track and it manages to satisfy none of the aims. The la-la-las in the chorus feel out of place in the open arrangement, likewise the Madness-esque trumpets are a giant WTF in context. Its a mess, really. I'm sure people that very much enjoy Blur can find more to like amidst the different elements here but for me? Trying too much, managing nothing, overstaying its welcome.

The last track starts really... well, contrary to any expectations I had. This is not one I was ever familiar with and it sounds like it has rocked up here from another album and another band. It develops nicely though, an underlying groove that I can appreciate. And just as I type that it gets interrupted by what sounds like a long loud fart. Like Country House earlier, this sudden intrusion breaks any sense of connection to the track and snaps me out of the groove. Now I hear it from the outside it doesn't feel like it has enough craft to draw me back in... until I suddenly am recaptured by a pivot point. This is a really frustrating track and it will have to go... too much mediocrity built around a couple of very solid patterns. I don't like being sucked in and spat out; I'd prefer to be kept at arms length throughout, able to appreciate it from outside, than constantly be readjusting my position on something like this.

As the surprise wears off, and the silence (laptop fan background noise) returns as the dominant sound in my ears I find myself feeling... not a lot. There are some tracks on here that I really like, there were a few I really didn't, and a bunch that I recognise mostly as the background sounds to my teenage years - no strong feelings. It's alright, I guess, but Albarn has done much better since.

The Blues Brothers Original Soundtrack - Various Artists

Track list:

1. She Caught The Katy
2. Peter Gunn Theme
3. Gimme Some Lovin'
4. Shake A Tail Feather
5. Everybody Needs Somebody To Love
6. The Old Landmark
7. Think
8. Theme From Rawride
9. Minnie The Moocher
10. Sweet Home Chicago

Running time: 40 minutes
Released: 1980

Classic soundtrack time. The Blues Brothers was one of my favourite movies growing up, the anarchic chases and other silliness was undoubtedly one draw, but it's impossible to escape the power of the music in shaping the film. I haven't watched it in years, and the aforementioned silliness would probably make it hard for me to sit through it now (though I do, of course, have the DVD), but the love of the music is still strong. So strong, in fact, that I am making time for a second listen today.

The staccato riff that forms the opening to She Caught the Katy immediately transports me back, sets the mood. I think I have a Taj Mahal version of this song around somewhere but its this recording that is the one I remember and refer to. The Blues Brothers may have stemmed from a comedy skit but the love for their source material is clear, and their rendition of the Peter Gunn Theme is movie gold. This is one place where my youthful love of the saxophone is still alive and kicking, whilst that riff... well its so iconic that I can almost forgive the incessant nature of it, not once breaking stride in the duration of the piece until the climax. It must be dead dull to play but it is the rock around which the rest can build.

Then we hit Gimme Some Lovin'... these tunes are all standards now, what can I really say? I've mentioned before that the best song from the movie is not actually on this OST (I also strangely said that the Peter Gunn Theme was the best on the disc; huh), but it's hard to say that it's missing given the energy put into the songs that are represented here. I'm not as fond of GSL as I once was, it feels a little bland now, but by contrast I'm far more engaged with Ray Charles' Shake a Tail Feather. The organ keys just brought a beam to my face, and the picture of a poor neighbourhood gathering in the street to dance along to my mind's eye. I think it's the rhythm that really grabs me now though, high tempo, peppy and reinforced by the horns.

Everbody... starts with the intro from the film, which probably sets this version apart from any other recording of the song, It gives the track a clear nostalgia pull even beyond the music itself. The transition into the chorus is just magic, whilst the base pattern is merely so-so, that switch elevates the number. I generally find celebs taking on music to be a bit... eh (though I have at least one example beyond The Blues Brothers to contend with going forward), but here they are backed by professionals who made their living off tunes like these and the enthusiasm is the selling point.

I wrote earlier about Joni Mitchell's Blue that I own it because I felt I ought to. I now run into the converse of that; I don't have any James Brown aside from The Old Landmark despite his iconic status as I was growing up (I wonder if it has faded some since; he does not seem as immediately relevant to the 21st century somehow... which is probably a shame). Brown is followed by Aretha - another of the stars here that I almost feel I should have invested more in. Think always used to be my favourite track from the film - it came on the back of the "four fried chickens and a coke, and some white bread, toasted" line (since parodied - as indeed the whole film was - by Pratchett in Soul Music, the main reason young me loved that book so much), as much as the performance I suspect that sold me. The power of this number though... it takes me back to my childhood in a nice fleeting sense.

It saddens me that whilst the Rawhide theme made it on to the OST, the version of Stand By Your Man did not. Visually the Rawhide theme works better, Jake cracking the bullwhip and all, but on record its pretty dull. I never saw the show, was never a fan of westerns, and can't relate to the tune in any way beyond the scene from The Blues Brothers; it falls flat. That can't be said for Cab Calloway's number though... from the big wailing horn in the intro to the flapping lips and fast paced scat and the recorded audience participation (well, engineered somehow I suspect but still). I remember knowing this song before the film somehow - my dad must have had it on tape or something, or perhaps more likely my memory is compounding the fact I know it exists separately with hearing Calloway recordings since. In any case, it is a nice rendition of the song.

Sweet Home Chicago was the other number that tussled for "favourite" status with Think. I just loved the long lead out that plays over the brothers' escape, but that sort of thing has lost its magic for me now and actually the song is rather rigid and formulaic. It seems to lack some of the energy and enthusiasm that keeps the earlier recordings vital, though the image of Ackroyd and Belushi "dancing" down the catwalk and back is a hard one to keep out, and it does raise a smile.  Hah! The tune actually gets far more interesting in the lead out even now. Not enough to be a favourite, but it gets noticeably better after the vocal ends and the musicians take up the challenge of filling space. I'd take She Caught the Katy over this as the best of the Blues Brothers tracks on the soundtrack though - there is just something about that intro that nails an atmosphere that the rest of the disc does just enough to hold up, but not quite enough to match.

The final track always felt a bit tacked on. Jailhouse Rock performed by prisoners. Hur hur. I just have no engagement with the track. It's not bad, per se but just frenetic for frenetic's sake and it is not a tune that I have other versions of or any investment in. Actually I think it is quite bad. Cacophonous. A blaring end I could do without, and that is with it ending a note before I expect the big jangly chord finish.

Nostalgia - sometimes it should be left alone. Sometimes indulging ain't so bad. This falls on the second side despite my strong suspicions that the film itself falls on the first.

The Best Imitation of Myself (Disc 3) - Ben Folds

Track list:

1. Unrelated
2. Best Imitation of Myself
3. Rocky
4. Boxing
5. Julianne - Ben Folds Five
6. Evaporated - Ben Folds Five
7. Alice Childress - Ben Folds Five
8. Barrytown - Ben Folds Five
9. Amelia Bright - Ben Folds Five
10. Tell Me What I Did - Ben Folds Five
11. Rock Star
12. Losing Lisa
13. Break Up at Food Camp

16. Hiro's Song
15. Wandering
16. The Secret Life of Morgan Davis
17. Such Great Heights
18. Bitches Ain't Shit
19. Time
20. Sleazy
21. Because the Origami - 8in8
22. Stumblin' Home Winter Blues - Ben Folds Five

Running time: 77 minutes
Released: 2011

We reach the end of Ben Folds pretending to be himself with a rarities disc. Some of this is likely to be quite bad, other bits are probably gold dust. I don't recall a lot of the specific versions of better known songs here, or indeed many of the others so whilst this disc is one of the reasons I bought The Best Imitation of Myself, it is relatively unexplored compared to the other two.

Again it has been an age since I managed to post anything. I thought that after buying the car I would be freer mentally. Alas between work, ants and being the victim of petty vandalism I have had more on my plate than I would have liked - especially as resolving it has taken much longer than expected. Oh well, Ben to the rescue now.

We open with a really short unfinished piece, then launch into the title track for this collection. I guess this is a late recording - if I had the discs to hand I could check - but its brighter, lighter than the version I am familiar with, adding strings. Its all very... over the top in a sort of manicured way. Precision and propriety is not what Ben Folds does but here things sound too exact, too sculpted. Its interesting but incongruous. Rocky is new on me - in that I have it nowhere else, and I don't know it well enough to have preconceptions. It sounds like Ben Folds Five (eponymous album) era. College rock. Bright, breezy but kinda wistful. I like it. The cadence of the chorus is pleasing, even if the piano is perhaps a little too dominant. The track does feel like it goes on for ever though. It is only 4 and a half minutes, but the two before are short enough that this feels like a lifetime.

Boxing; great song. Said it all before. I am not immediately clear on what makes this version different but I do not have it tagged as Ben Folds Five, so I suspect there are some subtleties in the bass/drums on the band versions that I don't pick up on. There is some harmonisation in the choruses here that is different in a nice way, but the line that stabs me through the heart every time I hear it does not have the same impact in this rendition. Most of these versions are, I will guess now, not quite up to the ones that got published and released. There may be some charm here and there, but generally... something lacking. Julianne seems to back up this view as, whilst being more musical than the final album version, it lacks pace and energy. I might not like the song much, but at least it has some life in other performances. Here it is just flat.

The next song sinks in with its opening chords. Evaporated is a rare thing: a Ben Folds Five track I love to bits that I haven't yet written about on this blog. This feels a little under-produced compared with the version that concludes Whatever and Ever Amen but the song is fundamentally the same, a beautifully constructed tale of sadness and regret. I find myself silently mouthing along with the lyrics out of habit, mind unable to do much else. I haven't listened to this song for a fair while and whilst it is much as I remember, and I remembered that I loved it, I seem to love it more than I remembered. Or maybe it just feels appropriate after a crappy week or two, though I don't think I have much to regret per se. That it then drops into Alice Childress is pretty good sequencing I think, keeping some semblance of continuity in tone and theme. I am so wrapped up in this now, just unable to find words to communicate that. Maybe they will start to flow as we move through, or perhaps not.

Barrytown is another one I do not recognise; it feels raw, unpolished. WMP suggests it is a cover, but I don't know of whom. It does have very "Foldsian" feel to it, the structure of the lines, the exuberance, the rhythms... if it is someone else's song, this certainly has Folds' stamp on it. Weird, the bass sounds muted towards the end. The track has breezed by and it is replaced by another one I don't recognise - one written by drummer Darren Jesse (preceding one penned by bassist Robert Sledge). Amelia Bright is a bit too thin, body-less. There's nothing to not like, but by the same token there really isn't anything to find to applaud either. I worry that the rest of this disc might be like that, but I am hoping that there is a bit more good stuff in here too.

Tell Me What I Did sounds like... well it feels like I have heard this a hundred times before in other Ben Folds Five songs, yet at the same time I cannot name one that would validate that comment. It is a sense not of déjà vu, but déjà entendu. I spent the whole bloody track trying to remember the French for "to hear" and had to look it up in the end. Good job I'm using that education, eh? In my defense it was almost 2 decades ago now.

Rock Star is a song I have always had time for, self-awareness is rare enough in the general population that I don't expect to see it in anyone in the public eye, but Folds has always had that side to him - the same one that produces the self-deprecation of Rocking the Suburbs that is so inherently endearing to me as a Brit. This version of the song fades out weirdly in the middle though, or so it feels, and Folds launches into Losing Lisa. This is a tune I have always liked but this particular version changes the lyrics in a place or two from the released album version and I think the song suffers for it. The arrangement is also slightly softer, leveled differently or something. There is a vim missing, and with it an impact. Still a very nice piece of music though even if it sounds like it was recorded on the tinniest microphone he could find.

We blast through a crappy mall-based dumping song - not really much to recommend in this. It feels 2 decades or more out of date, like it should be on the soundtrack of Kevin Smith's Mallrats. I am astonished to find on a quick Google that this was an outake from The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner rather than earlier. Then I have to adjust the pasted track list below the image as Hiro's Song (boring, sorry) comes before Wandering not the other way around.

Wandering I love. I have this on an EP somewhere that may surface later and I think that is probably the better version but I find this song touching in the extreme. The chorus really gels for me, a plaintive, regretful voice over a wonderfully judged piano, softly melodic, conveying the tone perfectly. Ben Folds has never been the worlds best vocalist, but it is easy to forgive him that when he composes and writes (co-with Darren Jesse here) as well as this. Ah, yeah - thought so. The other version is definitely better. Here the midsection is a little out of kilter with the verses and chorus, the tone shifted by the arrangement. Still, it is very much the same song, and the last lines of the final verse are still a hammer blow.

We get a music-hall (or should that be stupid sitcom credits sequence?) inspired number next, inserted here in what feels like a really inappropriate change of tone. This song could only be American in its composition, even before it gets to the crackpot lyrics. I don't like it at all - its a childish attempt to be funny that just misses the mark for me. Morgan Davis can take his secret life elsewhere.

I own a best-of from The Postal Service (great band name, I think) thanks to this next track, where Folds covers Such Great Heights. The arrangement is not as immediately pleasant as I remembered, and the verses are terse and tenser than I recalled, but the chorus I love. Folds manages to create the same sense of constriction, claustrophobia and edginess through incredible staccato key mashing that the original managed with programmed sequences (though his version gets some of that later), and the song itself carries with it enough that any half-faithful rendition is going to be worth your time.

We stay in covers-land for Bitches Ain't Shit. The song itself is really not up my street at all, though I do remember seeing Folds perform this live, just him and his keys and being amazed by the performance; somehow he manages to sell it as a soft piano ballad. Its remarkable genre-busting work, but yeah... there's nothing admirable about the source material, laden with all the misongyny you would expect from the title. I don't think any less of Folds for covering it - I am pretty sure it is deliberately ironic - but once you have heard it once, the impressiveness of his work with the song is completely overruled by the offensiveness of the lyrics. I won't miss it.

Time comes and goes - not sure what is different about this from the version on Songs for Silverman. I haven't listened to that album for an age, something I should perhaps remedy once my car is drivable again. I like the song, like most of the album, but it doesn't stick in my mind quite as much as others. It is a brief respite before another genre-twist. Sleazy is pretty ....ing bad. I am not familiar at all with the source (unlike Bitches Ain't Shit) and so anything Folds brings in transposing this song is lost on me and I am just left to interpret what I hear in a more literal way. This has none of the class of the other rework, none of the musicality in the result. Its just a sonic mess with nothing to recommend it at all.

Because the Origami is by 8in8; 8in8 is Ben Folds with a couple of others, most notably for me it includes author Neil Gaiman (who inspired another album I have - Where's Neil When You Need Him, which I bought because Thea Gilmore contributed a track). This song is alright but nothing special. I am sensing the end - just this and what I expect to be a nothing-like junk track to go. Stumblin' Home Winter Blues is... yeah. Nothing much to it, or nothing I can see after an hour of other Folds songs anyway. It's another Darren Jesse-penned track, and like Amelia Bright it is pretty-ish but lightweight, nothing to hook on to, nothing to engage with. Its light fare, perfectly listenable but easily forgettable; I wonder if his band Hotel Lights were pretty much that too?

Who knows... not me. I'm done here, slightly trimmer and resolving again to try and make more posts here without such a large gap. We'll see if I manage it.

The Best Imitation of Myself (Disc 2) - Ben Folds

Track list:

1. Julianne - Ben Folds Five
2. Video - Ben Folds Five
3. Song for the Dumped
4. Missing the War - Ben Folds Five
5. Mess - Ben Folds Five
6. Magic - Ben Folds Five
7. Selfless, Cold and Composed
8. Zak and Sara
9. Girl
10. Just Pretend - The Bens
11. Fred Jones, Part 2
12. Careless Whisper (Feat. Rufus Wainwright)
13. All U Can Eat
14. Long Tall Texan
15. Army - Ben Folds Five
16. Battle of Who Could Care Less - Ben Folds Five
17. Kylie from Connecticut
18. Effington
19. Picture Window
20. Sentimental Guy
21. Not the Same

Running time: 79 minutes
Released: 2011

Disc 2 of the Ben Folds retrospective, again featuring solo performances, Ben Folds Five, and a couple of others - The Bens (his collaboration with two other musicians named Ben; I never got into) and a duet with Rufus Wainwright, a definite high point on this disc.

However we start with a rendition of Julianne - one of my least favourite Ben Folds Five numbers when I first heard it, and still so now. This is a disc of live performances, and the song initially benefits from this, but as it gets going it is ultimately still not a very good song. Ben's voice is odd in places on the track too - it feels like a very raw recording, not just live but basic. Thankfully it is also short, and over before I can get too annoyed by it, and Video is a much more pleasant track.

The song does sound different to the album version(s) of it that I have, again a slightly raw and basic edge to the quality, different balance between the parts. The bass is particularly clear which gives the song a strangely rumbling timbre. The album recordings are dominated by the piano (as you might expect) but here those keys are subsumed into the whole rather than tinkling over everything in a domineering fashion. Man, that is an odd sentence, when can a tinkle domineer? In any case, this difference in balance and tone makes it an interesting alternative, and so worth keeping despite duplication of the song.

Not sure I will keep this version of Song for the Dumped though. There is a very tinny edge to the recording, over-driven bass and it also feels like a good performance is ditched in favour of gusto. There are definite differences from other recordings of the song, but it is not a favourite track (I'm sure the younger me loved it for the naughty words and angry sentiment but no more). I am doing this listen now because rain has washed out the cricket for the day - and with it any chance of an England win. Thankfully there was play earlier as I made my way over to Hook Norton to pick up a case of beer, but mostly as an excuse to get out and drive the new car. I would rather be spending this early evening listening to Alistair Cook continue his return to a run of good form, but alas, Folds' songs will have to suffice.

Missing the War is one of my favourite Ben Folds Five tracks (from Whatever and Ever Amen) and this recording does not mess with the formula much. There is some nice harmony, though it also strains at points, and the faithful performance of the album track carries the emotional punch just fine. I do not have much else to add, except that the swell of crowd applause at the end of the track was deserved. Then we dive into Mess and Magic from Reinhold Messner...

They form a sort of heartbreaking couplet, melancholy and loneliness imparted strongly, but beautifully and melodically. Mess loses something of the softness of the piano that I want to say exists on the album version, but the performance is as laden with strings and pain and regret as any. I think the tempo is up in places though, it feels quicker than memory recalls but [retread of old ground]. Magic starts with that perfect piano melody, so good it really shows up the fact that Folds' voice is not the best. This might just be his finest tune, not my favourite, and not his best song, but his best tune. I am incredibly fond of its light yet sombre tone and appreciate the more precise and considered playing that comes with it compared to his more bombastic tunes. The love and friendship that come through, the genuine heartfelt emotion carried in the piece, they completely excuse the use of made up words because it simply doesn't matter what is being said at the end of the day - you get the message from the whole thing anyway.

And just like that we're done with Ben Folds Five for a while, even as the next track is a Five song. Selfless Cold and Composed was always a piano-dominated piece so Folds playing it alone loses very little and, like Magic, it has a wonderful theme to fall back on. Listening to these two songs back to back again now rekindles the wish that I could play like this. I have written before of my lasting affinity for piano music after learning as a teen, and emotionally active melodies trigger the regret of not keeping up with things more than anything else.

Zak and Sara works better than it should, and is a powerful performance, Folds' fingers working overtime drumming out a rhythm as well as the tune, but frankly I don't like the song enough to have two live versions of it on my hard drive. I have barely scratched the surface of this listen yet - not half way in. Despite the paucity of my offerings recently I am half-regretting starting this one because of the length. Stupid, that, since it has nothing to do with what I am listening to, though to be frank Girl is jut shit; to be fair Folds describes it as his "0.6" and suitable for a boy-band. My take is its too crap even for that!

The Bens featured Ben Folds, Ben Kweller (the one I remember) and Ben Lee (the one I always forget). I never knew anything about the other two, and never investigated the output of Ben-to-the-power-3. On the basis of the track here, that was a good decision; its just a dull, repetitive loop of a song with nothing to hold or draw the interest. When it ends, I reckon it is unlikely I will ever listen to them again. Coming on the back of that dullness, a return to a sad and emotional piece is effective. Its funny - I never really appreciated Fred Jones as an album track, but here, and thinking back to my prior experience of this disc, it is a song I really like. I don't know if that is because I can relate, working in an office and would hate to be there or what...

Now we hit the heights. Careless Whisper may be a George Michael number but the song is not to be written off just for that, and here the interplay between Folds and his flamboyant guest is awesome. I have a few Rufus Wainwright albums (though to be honest I kinda wish I'd stopped at two) and like him as a showman. He and Folds have very different voices that play off each other well and whilst the whole performance has more than a touch of camp about it, the song is nailed. 

Ugh, my back is starting to ache; I do not have the ideal posture or position for long stints actively addressing the keyboard like this. I think my coffee table has got away from my couch again. I really need to sort out my spare room so I can get a proper desk set up... not that I would use it, it is too convenient having the laptop in the front room with everything else. A couple of comedic numbers drift by before we head back to the Five for a couple more. Long Tall Texan is half a song really - Folds admitting to the crowd mid number he knows no more of the words. Still.

Army; we've been here before. It's a great song and fantastic live. This version is again different from the live version Folds does solo on Ben Folds Live. I don't just mean the fact that they actually have the horns to do the horn parts rather than relying on the audience; the drums and bass really adding to the ensemble sound, taking up slack. I think I prefer the piano-only, audience participation version (as I have been there, done that audience wise) but I like both. This version of Battle of Who Could Care Less is good too - its uptempo washout cheer is oddly welcome right about now and I somehow daze my way through it, remembering to type this line only as it ends.

Five to go, and it is a bit of a denouement from here. Two songs from Way to Normal first, one I rather like followed by one I could take or leave. There is something very sad about Kylie From Connecticut, the narrative of this song is one of a return to an infidelity in later years - speaking to a loneliness. However what really strikes me about this piece is the fact that this rendition goes bananas in the middle of it, an instrumental insert that seems at odds with the sombre general tone. I think it's not as good as the album version (and I didn't like much from that album as we might see when we eventually get there), but I would need to check before hitting delete. Effington is just... blah - it has some nice bits, it has some awful bits and overall it comes to a pretty dull whole.

Picture Window, on the other hand... this song is a true favourite. Penned by Nick Hornby for Lonely Avenue, it knocks me flat with its chorus. It's a song about the mother of a very sick child, sad and trying not to get hopes up. Hope is a bastard. There is something compelling about that, but oddly (and I would imagine deliberately) genuinely hopeful too. Hope may be a bastard, but its a necessary one and part of being human. Folds nails the tone with his tune, though the playing here sounds a little out compared with the album version in one or two places. Still a great song though.

Sentimental Guy introduces a trumpet which I don't recall being part of the album recording, some harmonies which definitely were (with Weird Al Yankovic if memory serves), and then we hit the last number. An audience-participation version of Not the Same, in place of the choir used on Ben Folds Live. There is, with bass and drums definitely present, more to this recording again than the original version on Rocking the Suburbs, and this is subtly different than the Folds, Piano and choir rendition. I rather like it, at least until the end, where it cuts off very abruptly.

Phew. Just one more post until I can move on to other stuff, though at least disc 3 is more unusual material - and so a little less familiar. I say move on to other stuff... we'll see if I can keep any kind of rhythm up through the other "best of"s, not that many thankfully, and then a Big Box of 6 discs by one artist (who also features in the best ofs). So sameness persists for a while, no doubt contributing to my reticence to find the time. I would like to establish some momentum again, this year has been noticeably slower than last, more gaps and longer gaps between posts. There's not even a shred of hope that I will finish B by the time I have been going a year. I would need to do more than 1 a day as there are 90+ still to go... B is clearly a common first letter for album titles.

Bending the Dark - The Imagined Village

Track list:

1. The Captain’s Apprentice
2. New York Trader
3. Wintersinging
4. The Guvna
5. Sick Old Man
6. Nest
7. Fisherman
8. Get Kalsi
9. Washing Song
10. Bending the Dark

Running time: 55 minutes
Released: 2012

The Imagined Village. I liked their first album a lot but then soured on them a bit. I have, however, stumbled across a very positive BBC Music review of this album in the process of preparing for this post so perhaps it is a good thing to be revisiting this again. To not influence any reading of this piece, I leave the link to the end.

I have been a bit quiet here of late - nothing for over a week. I may be back from my holidays but I have been tied up one way or another - busy evenings, a weekend with the niece and nephew, tiredness and, significantly, the cricket commentaries coming from the West Indies where England are playing. These have filled up the evenings when I have been around, and I can't listen to two things at once. I have other things on the go that I haven't got to in my evenings, too - for example i am now 2 sessions behind writing up my Albion game. I was going to address that yesterday until I got caught in an accident tailback (two, actually) and it took almost 3 hours to get home from work, normally 40 minutes away, and so I was not in a mood conducive to writing.

Enough grumbling, I have just about managed to find a window for this within 2 weeks of the last post so lets dive in. The opening is an unaccompanied female voice, Jacqui Oates, that I recognise as one of The Winterset backing Rachel Unthank on The Bairns; we then get percussion and eventually a top end joining in. When the vocal returns it is, instead, Eliza Carthy. This is one of the things that attracted me to The Imagined Village - the range of musicians involved. This line up is different from that on their debut; there is overlap but some have gone, some have arrived.

Of course Carthy's vocal is also a different track to Oates' and so, I presume, was the top end. I just missed the transition... rustiness showing immediately. It makes more sense this way, mind. New York Trader is quite a rich number, blending a lot of different influences - another plus from The Imagined Village concept and range of contributers - compared to the sparseness of the short opener.

Two and a bit tracks in now, and I am again reminded about how thin the lines between genre can be, and in places you may not expect. Here on Wintersinging the percussion is persistent and incessant in a manner not unlike something you might hear in a club, weighted by the bass of Ali Friend of Clayhill and more pertinently Red Snapper, who I have seen (on video alas) doing Drum 'n' Bass live with an upright bass. The difference is in the composition of the top end - what instruments are involved - and, crucially I think, the relative volumes of the parts. I really like this track, both as an example of the fragility of genre as a concept and more simply as a piece of music. I am already much better disposed to this album than I was expecting to be before reading up on it.

The Guvna is a disappointment as a follow up - I think it misses something from not having any vocal. I recall this track being called out in the BBC piece but I read that nearer 3 weeks ago and cannot recall why. I still worry that it is influencing my opinion, but the track is simply lacking engagement. It's not unpleasant or anything, just... bland? Thankfully a singer is reintroduced for the next track, which includes Raggle Taggle Gypsy, which I am more familiar with from The Waterboys. This track again features Friend's distinctive twangy bass, with which I am very familiar, the notes he leaves phrases on, the structures of his hooks here, could come straight from a Red Snapper record, which is a fine thing as far as I am concerned.

Tonal shift. A softer song, less bassy, percussion relegated to supporting role rather than dominant structure, and back to Oates as vocalist, albeit sharing some duties with Carthy and a male voice - which one of the candidates I can't pin down by ear. Nest is alright, but I am immediately drawn in to the dark tone of the following track, a sleazy but enticing schmooze with a rich arrangement that pairs really well with Carthy's signing. This feels less folk, more noir despite being titled Fisherman. I love it.

Its not as if I have been completely music free in the weeks intervening between this and posting Beat the Champ - but it feels good to give time to some music again, even as I simultaneously distract myself by typing and glancing every now and again at the silent snooker on the TV. I have not managed to immerse myself in listening to anything else in the interim. Even in yesterdays snore-fest of a drive home there was no music, TMS kept me entertained instead as the cricket is back on, and forms one reason why I am forcing myself to do this listen mid-morning, else it could be another half week before I get to anything.

I have found the more percussive numbers, the grungier less folky numbers more interesting on this disc but I do appreciate the wandering styles, and Washing Song being predominantly stripped back to Carthy, a keyboard and fiddle is a strong counter to some of the earlier sounds. As I head into the last track I can honestly say I have really enjoyed this listen, but I am concerned it might all be destroyed by stupid silence given the 12 minute length of the title track. Hopefully its actually all music all the way - seems quite likely with the way the piece has started - a sort of rolling amalgam of the various styles of the individual contributors, rather than a coherently directed effort. As I type that it drops into sparse wandering, which would be dull except it brings to mind summer days. When it starts to build again I find it less interesting, a return to the busy but flat sound that The Guvna brought.

I hear in there a melody that I recognised, but could not place. Checking liner notes, it references The Cuckoo's Nest which immediately makes sense. That phase passes and we enter some serious drumming. To be honest I find this a shambles. The best songs on this album were tightly crafted works, using the different influences and contributors but pulling in one direction. This closer is undirected which means that whilst different aspects of it are quite decent the overall impression is not strong.

So, a disappointing close, but overall a very worthwhile album with a few tracks I enjoyed immensely. That title track goes. The other disappointing ones... I think I need another time through, or perhaps to listen to them isolated from the pieces that were so much better.

The BBC review I mentioned is here, by the way.

Bastion Original Soundtrack - Darren Korb

Track list:

1. Get Used to It
2. A Proper Story
3. In Case of Trouble
4. Bynn the Breaker
5. The Sole Regret
6. Twisted Streets
7. Terminal March
8. Percy's Escape
9. Faith of Jevel
10. Mine, Windbag, Mine
11. Slinger's Song
12. Build That Wall (Zia's Theme)
13. Spike in a Rail
14. What's Left Undone
15. Brusher Patrol
16. The Mancer's Dilemma
17. Mother, I'm Here (Zulf's Theme)
18. Pale Watchers
19. The Bottom Feeders
20. From Wharf to Wilds
21. Setting Sail, Coming Home (End Theme)
22. The Pantheon (Ain't Gonna Catch You)

Running time: 60 minutes
Released: 2011

This slots in here as a recent purchase, and the first example of a growing trend: soundtracks for videogames. I have picked up a fair few in recent months/years as it becomes more common for them to be offered as part of the purchase on digital platforms. Bastion I bought just days ago in a Steam sale; I got the soundtrack edition because a) I had heard it was highly rated and b) I already had and loved the soundtrack to Transistor, a game from the same studio carrying music by the same artist, so I have good hopes for this. I have been playing Bastion recently too and the music has made more of an impression than the gameplay, but in a context where I was not really concentrating on it. I wonder what attention might reveal?

This is one of two inserts, new purchases that come in the mid-Folds period (the other being the new Mountain Goats record, Beat the Champ which will follow once I am back home). 22 songs in an hour speaks to short tracks, but some are very short whilst others are more usual track lengths.

It starts with the intro - spoken word over a structure. The start of A Proper Story is jarring as a transition but the track sets the tone of the game's music. Fairly jaunty, evocative of a western-style brush/scrub badlands atmosphere. Strong guitars, steel stringed perhaps, such is their jangle. In Case of Trouble is, I think, the main theme really - the one that was with me a lot of the way through the game (I finished the first run through this morning). Either that or my tune recognition is garbage. The percussion is fairly tense which befits the soundtrack to what is - exploration and story aside - a fairly typical fight-em-all style procession. That edge is present in the consistent banging and pulses in the following track too - this has a darker, rougher edge to it, more immediate danger less promised trouble. Electric wails come in as a top end, then synth strings carry the ominous sound into a lighter and more melodic phase before the oppression overtakes all again.

Even though I was only just playing the game, I can't recall the context of each track, but I can hear the narrator's voice over each piece as it plays. The opening of The Sole Regret absolutely sells regret as the theme (although that could be biased by seeing the title). It then morphs into a more sitar-inspired piece, less oppressive as much of it simply creates a central space which lines then rise to fill in an effective and pleasing manner. There is a hint of a voice at one point (no words mind) and I am looking forward to the voice-as-instrument tracks to come (there must be at least one) as that was one of my favourite things about Transistor's music. Before then it has all gone more cyberpunk in tone, which feels slightly off - images of 90s videogame music arise in my mind as one of the treble themes is reminiscent of Street Fighter 2 music to me... thankfully its not a dominant sound.

I was not overly sold on the game, I have to say. Played it through, finished it with one of the two endings, but in no rush to go back to it. Too repetitive and really too designed for play with a console controller for me to want to replay on a laptop keyboard. Some cheap tricks too like hiding the ground and/or your character sprite; not a fan of that. The tension has ratcheted up again for Terminal March - rolling percussion is ever-present and the melody does nothing to take the edge off. Where it breaks in to the cacophony it actually serves to increase the sense of discomfort and unease, as if something bad is waiting just ahead, or following just behind. Apt. It isn't that much of a march though, if I am being picky - there's nothing regimented enough for that. Then, suddenly we're being chased. There is no other way to describe Percy's Escape, as it gives me a distinct impression of someone on my heels, footing not sound, but plunging on the only option. Funny - I don't recognise this track at all; not sure how the music is organised or coded in game so it is possible (however unlikely) that certain tracks did not appear in my play through.

Darker, but less immediately threatening now. Kinda like the idea of heading home after a nice holiday as I will be doing tomorrow. Mine, Windbag, Mine has the clanging of pick on rock in the background of a lushly layered piece. Strings and more strings over the clangy percussion, then an opening an electro-break followed by a sparser sound, double bass threatening us still. I am trying to think what I would liken this too, where I have heard a similar approach to percussion before but I am coming up blanks.

The badlands overtures return now; maybe Slinger's Song was the theme I heard most. Certainly it is more immediately identifiable with the section I started with this morning - jungle-type terrain, swampy in nature - watch out for that 'gator, don't swim in the bayou. I like the bluesy overtones here, they groove nicely, better without the visuals actually where it could simply apply to the stereotypical deep south.

Ah, there is the voice; humming and singing. The song not so much, but the hum I like, along with the maudlin tone. This has to be the same singer as on Transistor or my ears are deteriorating day by day. The song reminds me of Anaïs Mitchell - its about building walls and really rather bland, but nicely intoned even if the lyrics are terribad. The tone has left the Eastern themes of sitar (I guess meant to be associated with one of the cultures in the gameworld) and strangled notes aside and is squarely back in that southern/western badlands vibe now and I think this is the stronger suit, mixing tension with some interestingly modified tones, driving pacey beats with lines that could be played for relaxation in another context.

Occasionally lighter pieces drift in, like the Mancer's Dilemma, harp-like strains lead this, and whilst there is still a solid background rumble that contains the promise of threat, here it doesn't dominate like it has on most of the tracks thus far. It is a nice change-up, being more effective for that than the song that follows. Different singer this time, less enchanting but almost as effectively crafted to build the emotion. Unfortunately this effect is spoilt by the abrupt shift into the next track right as the final word is uttered - a second or two of quiet for the transition would have been more effective for me. What we drop into is more generic soundtrack music, tension conveyed but without the interesting themes that prior tracks had. Don't misunderstand, I think that Pale Watchers is a pretty decent track but... it lacks the character of something like Brusher Patrol or Slinger's Song where the decisions to use those steely guitar sounds really paid off and helped to craft memorable, enjoyable tunes that stand up well away from the game.

Into the run-in now, and Bottom Feeders has some character back, but alas its very definitely videogame character, not transcendent of the medium. There is a tinny, electronic edge to proceedings for much of the piece which means it is hard to see it as anything but an accompaniment to some gameplay that I am not currently engaged in. It must be from towards the end of the game - the bits I did today - because it is also spacey and reminiscent of some of the FTL soundtrack by Ben Prunty in places. In all honesty this track is probably my least favourite. We get a breather for the first 30 seconds of From Wharf to Wilds before synthetic horns blast in and the percussive edge is restored. It is a short piece though and it is not long before an end theme kicks in. One of the most annoying things about the game was unskippable credits at the end, so I have listened to this piece in full just a couple of hours ago. I did not notice that it was a duet then though, so I clearly wasn't paying much attention! When both voices are active the song is much better - singing different lines at the same time produces a nice haunting effect and brings out the best in Korb's composition.

Final track is a gravelly voiced song; reminds me of Mark Lanegan - just to tag another artist on this post for no apparent reason - but I guess it's actually the guy who voiced the narrator through the game. I rather like the effect and the bluesy guitar that accompanies it. Pretty good closing track this, ending on a really positive note.

Ordinarily I would cull some tracks at this point, for some I felt were rather weak when stripped of their original context. However soundtracks are soundtracks and sometimes best left intact. Re-use is a consideration here, and with that in mind I will be keeping all of it. My gut says Transistor was a better soundtrack, but this surely is not bad at all.