Come Up With Me - Thea Gilmore

Track list:

1. Come Up With Me

Running time: 3 minutes
Released: 2008

This was a Liejacker-era single or promo or such, and in my library at least shares the album's cover art. One song, not sure when or where I picked it up, but Gilmore remains one of my all-time favourites (and her latest The Counterweight is her best for years). I think I can hear this tune in my head, but how does it go really?

It's gentle folk-rock intro, layers one guitar on to another. The song is fine, I guess, but it's hardly Gilmore's best work. Her voice is good here, and the tone is brighter than a lot of how I hear Liejacker in my head, so that's good, but ultimately this is filler. I think I can live without this one, however much I may like some of her other work.

Comatised - Leona Naess

Track list:

1. Lazy Days
2. Charm Attack
3. Chase
4. Lonely Boy
5. Anything
6. Chosen Family
7. Comatised
8. All I Want
9. Northern Star
10. Earthquake
11. New York Baby
12. Paper Thin

Running time: 58 minutes
Released: 2000

This album was a favourite of mine for a while back when it first came out. Another blind punt that paid off for a bit. I somehow doubt that my older, wiser, self will be as struck by it but we'll see.

I didn't know what to put for the nationality tag here, so I left it blank (first time for everything, so they say). Pan-Scandinavian parentage, London upbringing, US base. I think it's probably fair to say that the latter is the single biggest influence on her sound, but the title is spelled properly (i.e. with an s).

The opening track lives up to its name. Lazy strumming gives a very laid back feel. I am not really feeling the nostalgia though. The chorus brings with it some more life and a bit more to like, but it's all a little too low key to be really engaging. When I picked this up I was on a real kick for female singer-songwriters and quite obnoxious about it. Some of the things I picked up as a result of that mild obsession have stood the test of time for me, others have certainly not. Lazy Days suggests this might be in the latter camp, but I am pretty sure that there are better tracks than this one to come.

Like Charm Attack, for instance. This was the single and it shows immediately. There is more drive, more snap. The vocal is almost disinterested, too cool for school. It's not a sound I appreciate so much now but it was more inviting to younger ears.  There is again a bit more engagement with the chorus. It's fluffy pop-light stuff but it also has a nice tempo and a decent enough change up to make me see why I liked it. That said, the closing of the track is awful, chucking out the nicest bits of the sound to build to a "big" finish.

Looking down the track list I can hear a few of them coming back to me before we get there. Some definite snorers there, but also 3-4 that I am genuinely curious to hear again.

I am fitting this in mid-morning, with a chile cooking in the oven, clothing and bedding ordered and washing done. Later in the day I will be lugging unwanted crap to the tip as part of my regime of getting stuff done during my "vacation" so this is a little interlude of calm. I am struck by how the first three tracks all have a different sound, a sequence broken when Lonely Boy returns to the overly laid-back style of Lazy Days, though it does build on it a bit more. No, scratch that. The rhythms are different here - faux Hawaiian. It really doesn't work, especially at the points where the vocal goes all strident suddenly. Any appeal this track had for me must have been based on relating to the subject of the song because musically it does not hold up at all. It feels like a melding of two things that should have been kept far apart.

I am more hopeful for the quicker, angsty, Anything. I'd rather like this one to hold up, even if there are no illusions about it being a great track.

The pace is there, as is a grungier guitar. Then when her voice goes lighter on the chorus it offsets it nicely. This, more than the preceding tracks, does indeed match my memories of the song, and I still find myself rather charmed by it. It's schlocky and daft, but the punchy tempo and the guitar work are mass-appeal, lively and fun. It's not a great song, but it is an enjoyable one.

It's a pity that pace doesn't carry forward. There is a horrible bit of casual homophobia in the opening lyrics of Chosen Family that is really jarring to hear in 2017. Combine that with the dull and soporific cadence and this song is a slow-motion car crash. The title track is still soporifically slow, but it is at least more positive in outlook. Slow tempo is not necessarily a sign of dullness, but if a track is going for a low energy approach then it is on the performer to bring something else to keep you interested. Here there is a swirling background that just about wraps me up, but the saving grace for the track is that brighter sound... rather than being slow and down, it is slow but soaring. The vocal goes a bit girl-group pop in places which is a turn off, but it just about works. The contrast between these two tracks is interesting because the pace is similar, but the overall effect and outcomes are completely at odds.

I almost get the feeling that Naess was holding back on some of these tunes. I certainly feel they would be a bit better with some more gusto. There are clear moments of crescendo in a few of the songs, but they are not followed through - it rises a bit, but doesn't commit. Take All I Want - the rise of the track suggests that she is about to cut free and thrash a statement but it doesn't dare go there, settling instead for restraint and mediocrity. It wouldn't have had to go much further to work - say to the level of Anything, which is still constrained but has enough room to run and bounce that energy around.

I guess at this point, now that it is clear that her work hasn't held my interest in the same way as some of the other artists I got into at around the same time, I should try to contrast Leona Naess with those that have, but I find that kind of thing difficult. The two names that jump out at me are Thea Gilmore and Heather Nova. These two still work for me for very different reasons. Gilmore is more incisive, wittier and a far better songwriter, but Heather Nova feels like she occupies the same sort of space as Leona Naess - woman with guitar singing mostly love songs with different twists. Nova added an edge though, more emotion transmitted through her notes and lyrics; Naess feels cold, message received but not felt, by comparison.

New York Baby is understated but it has an appealing riff, and is one of the better moments on the album. The running time of the disc is inflated by a 10 minute counter on the final song, which smells of Hidden Track Bullshit... I seem to recall that the track hidden is another version of this song, with less interest. Before we get there we get the waffle of Paper Thin.

Waif like vocals over an arty and sparse piano. Neither aspect of the song are strong.

I have found myself not getting on with Naess' voice on this listen. It's tighter, less full than I remember it and it feels genuinely weak in places. Paper Thin shows this up more than anything that went before as a result of the arrangement choice. I just don't think she has the chops for that kind of wandering tune. Happily the hidden track is not actually buried after tonnes of silence. A crowd hubbub comes in within a few seconds of the closure of the album proper, then an understated take on New York Baby does indeed strike up. Actually I find this stripped back approach to the song works surprisingly well, especially given what I just wrote about her voice not working in the lighter-touch arrangements. The key here is that this recording does convey emotion in spades, there's a longing inherent in the arrangement and the long notes. The blue sax might be taking it too far though - especially as the already stripped sound goes to the improv. percussion only after that.

Overall, well... there are some nice points and some dross to clear out. More of the latter. Fundamentally have my tastes shifted? Yes, I am listening to more folk and jazz than I was 17 years ago for a start, but I haven't entirely moved away from women with guitars. I am certainly more discerning these days, however.

Cheap Tricks E.P. - Thea Gilmore

Track list:

2. It All Gets Buried In the End
3. Let the Blue Sky In

Running time: 6 minutes
Released: 2006

Another shorty. Cheap Tricks was probably my favourite track off Gilmore's Harpo's Ghost. It has an urgency and energy to it that I liked, hints of the indignation that drove her songwriting earlier in her career - the bits I always loved about Thea Gilmore records. I still have a definite penchant for punchy, strident music from intelligent female vocalists. The barrier isn't even very high for that - a simple, purposeful bass is often enough.

I was long past singles by this point,  though I do have  few physical Gilmore singles - freebies from another order I seem to recall - just not this one. I don't remember ever buying these things digitally so I am not sure where I got these two tracks; the title track is not here, because I have the album version.

It All Gets Buried in the End is a slow, deliberate song, with a soft focus on the vocal - a bit of an open room sound - slight echo, but intimacy as well. The music is staid though, and the song is of a repetitive form, the title making constant appearance. I find it pleasant but tiresome - in that I like the way the vocal is recorded but the lyric and the rhythm both leave me cold and unengaged.  The second track has a brighter sound in the guitar, a cleaner, happier tone - lighter sound. Not exactly carefree though - its a worn out, tired kind of joy. It appeals to my rather worn out brain - I have been snowed under in people these past two days, and am enjoying some welcome quiet time as I prepare for the new week.

The chorus is a bit flat and I can definitely see why neither of these tracks made it past being B-sides. After setting up the intro to this post, Cheap Tricks got embedded in my brain and I have snatched listens to Thea songs over the weekend, before and after guests. Sitting through these now, these two are not amongst her strongest.

Canon (Disc 2) - Ani DiFranco

Track list:

1. Hello Birmingham
2. This Box Contains
3. Grey
4. Prison Prism
5. Marrow
6. Here For Now
7. Subdivision
8. Rain Check
9. Swim
10. Paradigm
11. Manhole
12. Studying Stones
13. Hypnotized
14. 78% H2O
15. Millenium Theater
16. Your Next Bold Move
17. Both Hands
18. Overlap

Running time: 68 minutes
Released: 2007

Part 2 of the DiFranco-athon. The first disc was long; this is barely shorter. How does it compare?

In truth, comparison is rendered difficult by the time I have let slip by between these discs, accentuated by two purchases (and two more that came yesterday that I am overlooking) that would force their way in by virtue of title. I am forcing this in, looking at it when I don't really feel like it, to make up for the ultra-lite month I have managed. Oh, and with a dodgy back today; early experiments with weights gone wrong I think. Yay.

All this means that my frame of mind is perhaps not one to be forgiving. Hello Birmingham is boring me, and yet is also magnetic somehow. Slow, plodding, but using a nice little phrasing, and a compelling vocal approach, breathy and tense. As it builds I find myself really liking the song and unable to really put my finger on why. We are then treated to an intro. This disc seems to waver between 5 minute epics and short nothings to begin with.

The most I have to say about Grey to begin with is that I am astonished it is spelled with an e; I thought yanks used gray. Hardly a compelling thought, eh? I shouldn't be so tired, I worked from home, I got up late, I've not left the house today... sleep has been hard to come by of late, though this slow number feels like it brings it a little closer.  It has none of the grab of Hello Birmingham, none of the vitality hidden behind the outward slow, low number. This is morose, sparse and dull instead. The vocal has no energy and the arrangement offers none of the secret interest. That it drifts on for 5 minutes is interminable.

Another short interlude, then. Prison Prism comes in at 1.34 and offers nothing for that. The final peak on the long-short-long ride is Marrow, then we hit a bank of more usual length tunes. Marrow opens promisingly, though it is perhaps still too slow and soft to sustain that positive impression. Here there is some intent back in the singing, some bite again. The wandering tunes that weave quietly behind DiFranco's whispers are intriguing, offsetting her vocal and drawing enough of the ear to turn the head.  The song falls down a little around the 3 minute mark as the accompaniment goes all light entertainment / 70s TV soundtrack in nature which throws the sense of the track a little. It more or less wrests back some sense of coherence and interest, through force of frontwoman more than anything, but what was really promising is now just alright.

Oh, now... that is an interesting bassline, punchy, different energy. Unfortunately the song that goes with it is gimmicky and all over the place and the arrangement does not really fit for me. The fast, staccato delivery of the lyrics, with two voices barking them out in imperfect concert through the verses does not impress, and I find myself really disliking the song despite the promise of the first few bars. I get the sense DiFranco experimented a fair bit with different sounds, something I admire, but that for me her style suits the predominant theme of hushed but harsh words and simple(ish) guitar parts to season. As this model is in evidence again on Subdivision, I find myself enjoying the song.

I really need to get next door and get hold of the landlord's number. The damp is getting worse and I now have the plumber's report to go with the structural folks one that confirms the problem isn't my side. I find the idea off-putting, but I need to get past that, and the constant tiredness and just get it done so that the root cause can be addressed, then the symptoms redressed. I deviate from the point because DiFranco seems to be spending a track pratting about on nothing of interest. Every even numbered track has been a miss in one way or another - will that last the disc?

Swim is more messing around as the tune wanders all over the place, along with the vocal. Some of the points it hits are really nice and interesting but others are not and I find it walks just the wrong side of playing with pacing and expectation for me. She sounds young on this song though - I have no idea if it was an early one, but it certainly feels like it. Geez, that is only just halfway. At least the missing evens streak is broken - or should be. There is a nicely patterned riff supporting Paradigm and here the vocal works better too. It is the punchy nature of the guitar playing that captures the interest though. There isn't much else involved, subtle lines weave in as we go and build to a fuller sound, but it never overshadows that first riff that holds the heart of the song.

In some ways this is really frustrating; there are songs here that show Ani DiFranco to be hugely talented and interesting. There are also plenty of tracks that are just plain dull, duds. For me that sort of wavering between brilliance and boredom is almost worse than sheer mediocrity - at least I can just switch off from the latter. That said, the hit-and-miss nature has never put me off other artists who when they are really good are great, building up enough credit to overlook the lapses. Regina Spektor is the queen in this regard; waiting on her latest. Whilst my thoughts roam, DiFranco has pulled out two in a row that I rather like for the first time on disc 2.

A more sombre tone and a fair 30+ seconds before the singing starts means that Studying Stones has a different feel to what has gone before. That sort of returns to expectation once the vocal gets going, but the arrangement maintains a stately nature that sets it a little apart. I really like the change of tone, and especially how the voice contains some traces of hope or happiness that contrast the rather downbeat nature of the arrangement. This works all the better because the music is given plenty of space to stand alone at top and tail of the song. Do like. I am not so sure about what follows. It has a certain something to it, but it is so minimal that I am not sure I would ever want to listen to it again - its the kind of track you would always skip over, which isn't much of a description but its all I have, especially as the track is now gone, along with most of the one after, which has a bit more to it but I find myself disengaged despite a nice bouncy tone to the guitar which I rather like.

Its funny how we can be fickle. There is no small part of me that thinks culling tracks is a bit silly because music is so mood dependent. Ultimately I am not going to get rid of anything I am both happy and familiar with; its the lesser listened stuff that is at risk and doesn't that just risk ossifying my position to what I already know? OK, with the scale of the number of tracks we're talking about ossification is not really that limiting, but there's always a new take on old goods based on mood, moment and so on. Context matters with music, and not a little bit. Still, I don't have to make cuts if I don't want to. It's my choice, my risk, my loss.

Into the final three tracks. These all have [New Version] appended to the name in my player, not that that means anything to me since I wasn't familiar with the old ones. I guess they come with a maturity of performance and performer, so I should perhaps be grateful for that, but Your Next Bold Move does not really sell that viewpoint. I can see there is a decent song in there somewhere, but it somehow still falls flat. Maybe I would have been better off with the older, rawer take. I guess I will never know because although there have been some pretty good tracks to pick out over these two discs I remain unconvinced overall of how well DiFranco's music suits me. The thing with Spektor is that her on moments are so right up my street that the off moments are the blip. Here it is much more of a toss-up as to whether it is the songs I like, or the ones I don't, that best reflect the performer.

Far from all bad, but I won't be going to uncover the Ani DiFranco back-catalog anytime soon.

...

I concluded the post too early! There is still a track and a bit to go. Both Hands is perky, flirty and reminds me in some ways of early Thea Gilmore. This is a good thing. I am not sure I really like the song, or the tune with it, but it made me feel positive and that is worth giving it another chance at least. The final number is also pretty neat. A much more musical, rounded, sound to the arrangement, lusher than most of those I have heard over the past hour, makes this tick. It doesn't overshadow the vocal approach but supports it in a more complete way than some of what went before. I find myself really liking this and feeling like the listen ended on a high. Right up until there are weird bells closing out the track.

That is that for September in all likelihood; an output of 4 posts is bunk. Must do better.

Canon (Disc 1) - Ani DiFranco

Track list:

1. Fire Door
2. God's Country
3. You Had Time
4. Buildings And Bridges
5. Coming Up
6. Cradle & All
7. Shy
8. 32 Flavors
9. Dilate
10. Distracted
11. Gravel
12. Untouchable Face
13. Joyful Girl
14. Little Plastic Castle
15. Fuel
16. As Is
17. Napoleon
18. Shameless

Running time: 72 minutes
Released: 2007

At University I had a friend who liked Ani DiFranco a lot, or at least that is my recollection. I saw eye-to-eye with him on a few other artists, but never explored this particular suggestion. I can't remember what made me take a punt on this two-disc collection of DiFranco's work. I can't really remember a strong opinion either way on any of the tracks, but it's fair to say I never developed a love of her work from it.

Breathy, minimalist. That is how we begin. I can barely make out much of what she is singing, whilst the staccato pluckings that form the only accompaniment are devoid of any real tune to provide a thread running through the song. I find myself doing two listens in a day - two long ones at that - out of frustration, listlessness and boredom. I had a break to eat, do a bit of gardening and some noodling around watching YouTube vids but I am frustrated. I am trying to rest my left arm... wrist and elbow have been giving me a bit of pain recently; I suspect some sort of RSI-type thing so I am avoiding what would be my normal fallback time killers.

DiFranco has an interesting vocal approach, I will certainly grant her that. The hushed and whispered, yet urgent delivery is a real feature. She does not seem to be a great singer in the sense of carrying a tune, so it feels like an adaptation to still be effective in that role. I suspect that her primary strengths are more in writing than delivering from the early exchanges - though when that delivery makes it hard to pick out the lyrics (quite apart from the problems of doing that whilst typing this) it could be a bit self defeating, at least for me. Where the first two tunes were urgent little songs, You Had Time is a piano tune, wandering hands over keys, nothing else until quite some way in where the melody appears to transition to guitar and the vocal starts. I'm not sure that both parts of the song work together, but each part is a step up from the previous tracks. The vocal is clearer, the tune more... tuneful. Its a more gentle experience, more room to breathe. When the piano and guitar are in sync as it comes to a close you begin to get a sense of the significance of the opening wandering hands. I like something here well enough.

Maybe Ani DiFranco is an acquired taste? I thought I was starting to like even the slightly scatty guitar licks a bit more as track 4 started, but then the song devolved in chorus to random noises rather than words and I am not so sure. I prefer the tune in Buildings and Bridges, and the verses are decent, but that chorus is painful. It's good that we get a sense of percussion here that has been lacking elsewhere. Its a shame that the song has a dichotomy; like/dislike. I can definitely say I don't like Coming Up though; ugh. The arrangement is just a load of sounds chucked in a blender hoping for the best, and I think in my old age my ear is definitely prone to preferring tunes over songs. At the very least I require the former to latch onto if it isn't something I already know. We get a step up after that though... still breathy and urgent, still a seemingly flighty picking at the guitar strings, but a little more structure and purpose. Perhaps having a bit of a longer run helps. Many of the tunes to this point have been sub 3 minute affairs, though I suspect this is coincidence not causation.

I have issues; plaster coming off the wall through damp. Waiting on the plumbers' report to go make my case to next door that a leak on their side is causing me damage. It's a buy to let; I need to get hold of the landlord. I have to go to the US in a couple of week's time for a week or work, and need to shortchange my niece's birthday and miss a mate's stag do to do so. I curse my isolation, but covet it at the same time. I need to get into my front garden desperately but rain and the fact it is on a main road stay my hand. I feel blocked; frustrated, mostly at myself. This feeling means I feel I relate to the thrust of Shy which, musically at least, carries a sense of exasperation with it.

DiFranco seems to have a knack for catchy little hooks. Fundamentally, though, I feel that you need a little more than that and a sharp wit to make a good song. Many of these are a little light on the extra bits, and I don't find her hooks substantive enough to support tunes on their own. This is why the first two tracks fell down hardest for me. Since then there has been more sense of structure, provided by first the piano in You Had Time and since then through more audible percussion. 32 Flavours takes the latter far too far though, with a long percussion solo that outstays its welcome long before the track ends without returning to the song. What we get next is... yeah. To begin with Dilate is barely a song - more like words spoken (emotionally, but more spoken than sung) by someone who happens to be holding and fiddling with a guitar. Then we get a big dramatic moment which feels out of context with what went before. Afterwards the song feels more song-like but my interest in it was sunk beforehand and even more following the blow up.

Oh, Distracted is a live recording. DiFranco's intro for the song does not endear me to her - less so for the message but for the way it is imparted. The overly sharp lift off from the guitar picks is a bit too distracting. I dunno what to make of this. Perhaps its just my Britishness, or just that I was familiar with her first, but I prefer the slightly more understated angst of early Thea Gilmore over this. Gilmore's hooks are less catchy but the tunes more rounded; her lyrics are less bite-y but every bit as thoroughly considered and politic. Oh! Hah. Distracted was an interlude; the song I was reacting to was Gravel. I see, well the point and comparison still stands. We all have favourites; different strokes for different folks and all that. And so much the better for that - it'd all be dull otherwise.

Well, I don't think I've heard someone say (or sing) "f*** you" so softly before.

There are still another six tracks to go and another disc after that. I have about had my fill of her style for one sitting by this point, but I need to soldier on for another 25 minutes or so. Why? Well it is a little samey. Sure, the individual songs are all different hooks but hook and wit only goes so far, and the wit does not quite gel for me as much as it might. On reflection, I think DiFranco's style might work better in person, and her songs would certainly give you something to talk about. For home listening on a lazy weekend in mid-life with no immediate connection to her issues it all falls a little flat.

The songs have gone very low key and quiet... hah! Just as I type that Little Plastic Castle gets clown shoes - aka an arrangement more elaborate than anything that has gone before. Horns, distant but there nonetheless. I rather like the surprise, and whilst it was unexpected and comical in the vein suggested, it makes the tune work. I was about to add "and dull" and the interjection stays that boredom. Fuel is conversational in tone. It's really laid back and interesting for that as this choice lets the lyrics shine in a way that all those hooks did not quite achieve. So... had my fill? Maybe not; just heard the wrong bits. Sure, it devolves a bit by the end; repetition of a chorus-style line doesn't really sit well with the pace and tone of what went before to my ear, but it is probably my favourite of the tracks to date.

Are these later tracks softer in tone? They certainly feel less urgent and angsty and better for it. As Is carries the laid back feeling of Fuel forward with a much more melodic hook than I had come to expect. The lyrical delivery is still hushed tones, but the breathy anger is now a gentle recounting. It is far more accessible for me.

The final two tracks have [New Version] appended to their title in my player. Well I don't know the "old" versions so... That said, it feels like I have heard Napoleon before. There is a different timbre to the recording of the guitar, whilst it is a step back towards the front end of the disc in terms of how the instrument is used there is more life in this performance. I find myself thinking of Kristin Hersh for some reason whilst liking the song but finding it to just go on a little too long. The extensive use of expletives needs a mention too - it works here, but I kinda wish it didn't because, well... overuse devalues them. Shameless keeps the cleaner sound recording in common with Napoleon, but falls back into the flighty playing that characterised the opening tracks. As a result it is less impactful for me. It doesn't feel like a closer, it feels like a spare part. So I make it one, along with a handful of others. I am keeping more than I expected to from this though, and have some genuine hope for some good stuff on disc 2.

Burning Dorothy - Thea Gilmore

Track list:

1. Sugar
2. Get Out
3. People Like You
4. Pontiac to Home Girl
5. Not So Clever Now
6. Instead of the Saints
7. Militia Sister
8. Throwing In
9. Bad Idea
10. Into the Blue

Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 1998

I am sure I have written before about how Thea Gilmore is a favourite artist of mine. Probably more true to say "was", since I enjoy her earlier material more, and this is the earliest of the lot. I found her lyrics more pointed and relevant (to me) and that bite is what largely endeared me to Gilmore's work.  

It is revealed right from the off in Sugar; Gilmore was a feisty young woman - and despite this being nearly 2 decades old now, she is still not yet 40. I love the opening acoustic riff, it heralds the attitude that comes with the lyrics. It's not stunning composition or brilliant performance, but it is very on the nose and in sync with the song that follows. In truth, the body of the song is musically rather dull, but I love the vocal for what is said and how. I have not listened to this for a while, and I am getting a fuzzy sense of nostalgia. This listen is well overdue. I should have managed it yesterday, or during the week, but... ugh. Too many things to sort out, so as usual in such cases I end up procrastinating, escaping into something I shouldn't be doing and wondering how the rest of the world copes with the boring bits of property ownership. Roof, damp, boundaries... all need work.

The attitude continues into Get Out, and again we have what is a fairly catchy riff at first grow less interesting over the course of the song, and another fairly astute set of lyrics. This number is higher tempo, a little more lush too, but it doesn't quite hit the mark as well as Sugar. It's a brave move to completely stop the music for a lyrical bridge (a thin backing does come in during it) on a debut from a then teenager but, well: I am slightly biased here but Gilmore had a way with words from the off and that carries it. We strip back for the next tune, which ends up being rather thin - a couple of guitars picking out tunes behind a voice that almost speaks rather than sings in places. Not the best of hers.

My procrastination has seen far too many hours lost to a) listening to England fall to Pakistan in the first Test, and getting frustrated with my poor play in Overwatch, which is the current big thing in games, or something. Enough about that though. There are two star turns on this record if memory serves and Pontiac to Home Girl is one of them, a dark and moody piece, slow and churning chords, wailing notes and a regret-laden voice. I have always been a sucker for long lonely tones, and a lot of other things that conjure images of loneliness come to thing of it. It speaks to a common theme of my time. The music does repeat rather, patterns set early replay often, but when they are effectively atmospheric, I have no problem with that at all. I find the tunes ticking by quickly, I don't remember them being so short and snappy, but there's nothing much beyond 4 minutes on the disc.

Not So Clever Now is peppier, more lively, spiked, staccato, then a bit more expansive in the chorus. Again it is all about the words. I think I picked this up when I was about 22, a few years after it was made, but the anger and purpose of youth sat well with me. In some ways I never grew up, which is possibly why I still find the songs very appealing. The second pillar of this album is Instead of the Saints. Gorgeous sound on this, understated outrage. I can't find the right words to describe it. Musically its a fairly staid piece - sounds like a thousand other guitar pieces really - but in concert with Gilmore's words and vocal (and doubtless my nostalgia) it lifts into something powerful enough to make the hairs on my arms stand up.

I think it's fair to say that I am seeing the flaws with these pieces more on this listen. When I was younger I brushed off the critical opinion that Gilmore's compositions were letting her down, undermining the strength of the songwriting. However it is really hard to avoid that fact on re-examination. Too many simple hooks, too much reliance on these same.  I forgive her though; whilst I am not loving the songs in the way I recall doing so in the past, I am enjoying revisiting them. I remember really loving Throwing In, a sadness hanging over the song that made it something I might turn to when feeling down (I'm one of those misery loves company types that likes downbeat music when feeling blue). Oh god, that chorus... Gilmore's voice nails the little kernel of hope, whilst conveying sadness. The guitar part is pretty dull (see a theme yet?) but the emotion carried on her vocal is class... fragile but fine, down but not out.

Bad Idea has a nice roll; I remember this one having a little bit of bite, but as the nice becomes the boring the chorus breaks it up and I find that I don't much like the singing here - it is a little too shrill, affected, tight. It doesn't fit with the music so well this time either. Whilst I don't think Gilmore has the best voice ever, I think she generally uses what she has pretty darn well; here it all falls a little flat for me. I don't quite know why. Then, just like that we're into the home stretch.

I need to do some surgery on Into the Blue to cut out the silence of Hidden Track Bullshit and release the track (apparently called One Last Fight), but thankfully Wikipedia has given me clues to where the buried song begins, so there's less trial and error to slice through the silence. The listed song starts with those lonely notes that I fall for, and a distant-sounding vocal. It's a wistful tune, one that resonates rather. A regretful tune, "My God I'm sorry" forms the bones of the chorus. That emotion runs strong through the piece, and I find that endears it to me. Again, the song and composition could be any number of other artists or bands, could be utterly forgettable, but there is a synergy between those long notes and the sheer emotion in her voice - a strong presence without being overdone - that makes the track work for me. It's over very quickly though so I find myself skipping through the silence. The hidden track is a jangling, folk-rocky number where I think the carefree sound rather masks a pithy undercurrent and touchy lyric. I like the tune a lot actually; just wish it hadn't been buried after 5 minutes of dead air.

This album hints at what was to follow. It's far from perfect and lacks the polish that began to appear on later records. I remain rather fond of it, warts and all, because that rawness is best reflected in the attitude and the lyrics, which are the stronger points of the work.

Brimstone & Blue - Nigel Stonier

Track list:

1. Tricks
2. Me And St. Jude
3. World In Denial
4. Love And Love And That Sort Of Thing
5. Josefs Train
6. Blue Shadow
7. Wild And Beautiful
8. Looking Out For You
9. Giddy Thing
10. Broken Moon
11. One For The Ditch

Running time: 39 minutes
Released: 2002

Nigel Stonier is only in my record collection because of Thea Gilmore. As her husband, and regular part of her backing band, Stonier has had a big hand in Gilmore's career, at one point during which she was my favourite artist. I've grown away a little - still preferring her earlier, younger, work to more recent releases. This album is contemporary of Rules for Jokers and Loft Music - the latter of which sees Gilmore covering Josef's Train. On this disc she provides backing and Stonier is thrust forward, a position that doesn't always suit him. However it opens strongly - Tricks is one of those tunes that if a shuffle takes me close, and I'm sat in a position to intercept, I inevitably end up having to put on. It's also our opening number.

Thrumming bassy chords and a guitar more stricken than strummed, my love for this song comes from the lyrics as much as its catchy sparse composition. A clever, but sad, song about the end of a relationship it kicks most such ditties into touch. I'm a sucker for the long lonely notes it ends on, too. If I was being trite about things I'd stop the listen now, call this a favourite and be done, but there are 10 other tracks here that I rarely give any time at all to get through first. The first of those is pedestrian - slow, and staid. No catchy riff here, no clever lines to excuse it. It is better in full flow than when it is building, but Me and St. Jude don't get on fantastically.

World in Denial sounds like it could have come from Rules for Jokers; the guitar work is very reminiscent of... one of Gilmore's tracks I can't remember by name right now. It is a little brighter in tone, a little livelier, and a bit more palatable for it, a catchiness to the cadence keeps me engaged through the song, even as the horns that back the chorus cause me to raise an eyebrow. They sound out of place somehow, maybe synthesized? We then devolve into happy-clappy folk rock for a rather forgettable track, notable just for some long modulated notes that give it a sense of Americana, even as the feel of the track (and the vocal in particular) are very, very British. The funny thing is, I can't see myself getting rid of any of these tracks - even though listening to them I don't think too much of them; this disc has some kind of appeal all the same.

I prefer Gilmore's cover of Josef's Train, but I do like the song. A rail song, a solo journey, there's a beauty in the picture it paints; I just think that picture is prettier in a simpler arrangement and with a female voice - a little bit of vulnerability, or rather of less solidity perhaps. Here there's a bit too much depth with strings - tight ones at that - and the jangling guitar part is a bit too strong. Stonier's voice is not ill-suited to the number though. He is not a natural front man, giving the impression of being a little awkward about the attention, whilst clearly being an accomplished, if not an outstanding, musician. His songs betray that a little, nothing too ambitious please. That means that where the lyrics don't pick him up and carry him through, the songs tend to the repetitive and safe. Pleasant enough I guess but not exciting.

The title for the album comes from Wild and Beautiful. This also has the feel of a Thea Gilmore song - just that little bit safe musically but interesting lyrically and so engaging enough to carry through for the duration of a pop song. If I simply applied the criterion "would I ever choose to listen to this?" to these songs I think only a few would be kept but again in considering it I feel an emotional attachment that makes that difficult. Aren't humans odd? Looking Out For You would be one of the keepers, just peppy enough to keep ticking, drums and guitar sync well and the harmonisation on the chorus works as well as you would expect from a practiced couple. It's a distant third behind Tricks and Josef's Train, but a nice song in its own right.

The last three tracks spark little or no memory from reading the names, and little if any more from hearing the first strains in the case of Giddy Thing, which is a horrible song title. Giddy is an awkward word (and awkward describes itself well, too!), and using "thing" about the object of your affection - for this is a love song - is staggeringly odd. I have had a poor day, of feeling everything I touched turned to poop. This has been a salvation of my evening - turning that frustration into a more positive direction. It would have been nice to have something to rave about, rather than be lukewarm as I have here, but still. The evening has still beaten the day - England even beat Germany. What next, flying pigs? Broken Moon is more recognisible once I hear the first strains. I can imagine it being a decent live song, but I find it too formulaic on record, and then we are into the closer.

One for the Ditch is clearly a closing track - its a come-down song, suppressed, soporific, apologetic. A road song in the "one for the" sense. These types of songs work to phase you out quite well, though here Stonier moves past what his singing voice can really handle in places. When the ode to the drunks fades out I am ready to down tools and to bed. I still steadfastly refuse to cull here; I still can't put my finger on why.

The Bright Carvings - Monkey Swallows the Universe

Track list:

1. Sheffield Shanty
2. Martin
3. Jimmy Down the Well
4. The Chicken Fat Waltz
5. Down
6. You Yesterday
7. Wallow
8. 22
9. Fonz You!
10. Still
11. Beautiful Never

Running time: 37 minutes
Released: 2006

Did someone ask for twee indiepop? No? Too bad, that's up next. I suspect this album is pretty bad, though I think Monkey Swallows the Universe had some pretty catchy little tunes on the follow-up (The Casket Letters). I had that before this, and the only song here I can bring to mind before I start is less than great. Still - prejudice is bad, mmkay?

It starts far more promisingly than my introduction. A neat little guitar part and an understated vocal. It has a slightly disheveled feel to it - a late night stumbling home feel. Suitable; my clock says 00:44 though it is really a fair bit earlier than that. After 2 busy nights I had this one to myself and I have gratefully retreated into music rather than explore after dark. Weird moment when we get a bit of Paul Simon lyrics chucked into the middle of the opening song. Trying to be clever and referential falls down when it is such blatant wholesale stealing, but I rather like the overall tone this opener sets.

The slightly higher pace in the guitar line of Martin reminds me of Thea Gilmore, but the vocal isn't as good and the song bottoms out pretty early. The chorus has a nice structure but the playing is functional rather than engaging and the vocal is missing something intangible - not through lack of ability, more the wrong context. This tune fits twee, where twee is used as a tarring brush, whereas the one that follows is just plain... ugh. A trite little number that deserves no credit (indeed I saw a set at a festival once where Jimmy Down the Well was used as a stick to beat the drummer with by his new - less successful! - band). It doesn't get any better after that finishes either, as the tune that follows is all over the place.

Sheffield Shanty was clearly giving a false impression; the rest of the disc thus far is pretty much exactly what I imagined it would be. The sense I get is that the band hadn't matured to find their sound at this point, but by the time they did, they had decided to part ways. I will get to The Casket Letters later this year (I hope) and unless my memory is playing tricks on me - a common theme, I know - the quality exhibited there is much higher.

You Yesterday has something slightly more interesting about it, but it is raw and unpolished. Vocal a little too flat, chords snatched, janky, levels not quite set. Its an interesting (and quick) little diversion, and then Wallow has a much better tone to it. A sense of purpose in the playing - two different guitar tunes interweaving well - and a vocal that is more like something I want to listen to. I really like the edginess that the repeated note striking on one of the guitars gives and the snatchy, speedy little hook. Best thing on the disc so far, although that isn't saying too much.

After a quick break to rinse out my ears (ew!) I set about 22, the little acoustic riff and glockenspiel combination falls flat for me as it starts, and the fuller sound of the mature track does nothing to win me back. It isn't that the song is bad, it just fails to be compelling, doesn't offer anything to arrest the ear and demand attention. The growth of the track, strings and other arrangement added, could be really nice in another context, but it lost me early. That goes much for the punchier Fonz You! too. It feels like music composed for a less than serious montage on TV or something. Maybe someone riding a bike, but unable to go in a straight line or stay upright. There's some whistling though, which is the first time I recall hearing that as part of the music (rather than a crowd reaction) outside of Andrew Bird records.

Final two tracks. Still is frustrating almost immediately, it has elements I really like in the vocal and some of the long extended, modulated notes of the melody, but the two do not sound like they are working together to me. The same sense persists through the song, which really only comprises those two things... and that only serves to make the frustration more acute. I think on balance I forgive it, but only just. The final track is the longest of them, at 6 minutes. It is sombre by comparison, whilst keeping the voice plus guitar limit. I get the sense they were trying to ape someone else here but I cannot place whom. It seems, too, that the 6 minutes is a lie as the song fades out after 2 and a half.  The stupid hidden track arrives a minute later and surprises with a male singing voice, and not a great one at that. The lyrics are amusing enough I guess, but the butchering of them is painful to behold.

Yes, this was pretty weak; not quite a complete write off but near to it; they got better, though.

Blue Roses - Blue Roses

Track list:

1. Greatest Thoughts
2. Cover Your Tracks
3. I Am Leaving
4. Can't Sleep
5. I Wish I...
6. Coast
7. Does Anyone Love Me Now?
8. Doubtful Comforts
9. Rebecca
10. Imaginary Fights

Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 2008

For the second time in recent days, two things in a row with the same duration (assuming I don't slam Benjamine Clementine in between, at least). I have a vague recollection of why I bought this - some Amazon recommendation or other based on other female singer/songwriters. That's not much of a stretch, as it is a musical furrow that I have ploughed regularly in search of new material over the years, mostly coming up disappointed as not much lives up to early Thea Gilmore for me. I don't really recall how any of this goes though and I'd rather not prejudge it.

We open with a piano melody. I guess by default I was expecting guitar so that was a nice surprise. The vocal is a little too ethereal for my liking, floral in places it does not always mesh ideally with the stresses on the notes beneath. The melody has nice crescendo and diminuendo, filling out growing in volume and then retracting back to simple quiet notes. The volume (in terms of mental space) is well aided by the vocal, even if it it is a little too shrill here and there. I end up on the fence over the song, but I think the melodies show promise.

There is a longer lead in to Cover Your Tracks, a nice combination of keyboard and violins. Oh, wait; it wasn't a lead in, it was the entirety of a short tune. Huh. No. It was the lead out to Greatest Thoughts - I did not see that, and it didn't feel like a lead out. There appeared to be a clean break before the melodies struck up. Interesting. When Cover Your Tracks starts for real it is a spangly plucked melody, nice. The vocal is piercingly high when it starts but there is a good sense of emotion in Laura Groves' voice as it moves over the registers with the tune. After the initial line, which felt far too high to be comfortable I rather like the singing here. In places it swamps the guitar, but that just makes the plucking more special where it recaptures the ear. Again we have a weird break mid-piece and what seems to be a new melody strikes up, but here it is more clearly a bridge.

I think this style may wear on me over 45 minutes. Nice little moments, but a little same-y in album form, perhaps and three quarters of an hour is a long time for the higher-reaching strains of her voice to worry my tolerance for high pitches. I have been sleeping like garbage this week too, so my patience is somewhat eroded through tiredness. Nothing like a nice lie-in on a Saturday to redress that, but I shall not be getting one because there is fun to be had. Can't Sleep seems like an appropriate song to start up as I am digressing into my poor sleep cycle, though the song itself is fairly snooze inducing. A simple picked melody with a bit of string support, it is not particularly stirring and as much as the pattern is pretty, I can't stare at it for ever. I find my mind drifting away because of the twee-ness.

I think these songs are too long for what they are. 5.00, 5.16, 6.53 - its a long time for tunes that lack many layers or changes of tone. I didn't write anything specific about I Am Leaving but it was the best of the tracks to date because it got through itself before the construction got dull or the voice wore on me, thus leaving the soothing melodies - Groves constructs hooks nicely - to have their positive effect before moving on. To be fair, I Wish I... feels as though it is trying to justify the longer run and I am better inclined to it because it is piano-led and less reliant on pattern. Changes of tempo help break it up, giving us movements. I take a moment to check Blue Roses' similar artists on LastFM and scratch my head; there is very little Alessi's Ark here, and definitely no She Keeps Bees. Not enough This is the Kit either. For all that, and despite the 7 minutes, I Wish I... is very nice.
 
There is something here. As much as I am not particularly enamoured of her singing, with too many high notes for my liking, I do like bits and pieces of what Groves has done here. If there was a bit more depth to the tracks - a little more to back up the nice little central themes - they could be really very catchy and memorable. As it is the veneer feels a little thin, there is not quite enough to the tracks for them to catch in the way their hooks warrants. I like the way she uses her voice, even if I think most of it is pitched too high for my taste - when she changes pitch, tone and tempo there is a real warmth to it but most of the time it has that slight warble and coldness of strain in the pitch. The biggest disconnect is between the voice and the tune behind it though; it feels like one is drawing you in whilst the other is keeping you at arms length with all its might.

That dissonance is a shame; if the two elements were more in concert then one or two of the songs here might just be elevated. It just feels a little too cobbled together to be really impressive, too shy to make the most of its positive attributes. In general I prefer the piano tunes to the guitar numbers, just reflecting my bias for the keyboard. I find it easier to forgive the repetition that sometimes creeps into the hooks because it is slightly more disguised. Mostly I found this listen too slow. I started it tired and ended it tireder. I can't say I really enjoyed it, whilst at the same time not really disliking it either. I think that ends up rather damning it with my disengagement, which is a pity because - as I said before - there are some great little elements here. Not ones I will be coming back to revisit though.

Black River Falls - Cathal Coughlan

Track list:

1. The Ghost Of Limehouse Cut
2. Officer Material
3. The Bacon Singer
4. Black River Falls
5. Payday
6. Dark Parlour
7. Out Among The Ruins
8. God Bless Mr X
9. Frankfurt Cowboy Yodel
10. NC
11. Whitechapel Mound
12. Cast Me Out In My Hometown

Running time: 51 minutes
Released: 2000

Ah, now I get to revisit a real gem, a true favourite. Black River Falls might be 15 years old now but its been in my life a bit less than that. I've written briefly on Big Sleeping House about how I stumbled on Cathal Coughlan and his fantastic singing as a result of a cover version on a special edition I bought because James Yorkston is one of my favourite ever music people (even if his most recent work drifts out of my interest more than I would like). Coughlan absolutely nailed his cover of Tender to the Blues and so I just had to go find more of his material. Whilst I love Microdisney as a result, it is this album as my perceived pinnacle of his solo work that shines brightest and longest, and it has a timeless quality to me.

It is from here I took the title for my Albion game - Out Among the Ruins - and from the very opening thrum of The Ghost of Limehouse Cut through to the sinister sounds of Cast Me Out In My Hometown it is a magnificent aural journey we make, traveling on the back of that rich and emotion-filled voice. The first number is an example of crime that doesn't pay, a nice tempo, a threatening riff, real darkness in the construction. This post is coming 3 days later than planned after evenings wiped out by bad circumstance. A pity, as I was really looking forward to to doing it Wednesday evening. Now it's Saturday and I am just about starting to feel human again. Coughlan's acerbic vocals are perhaps not what you might think of as relaxing, but there is a warmth in there too. Somehow he manages to be both welcoming and dismissive at the same time.

Officer Material has a very different feel, wistful, and more melodic. I really like the lilt of this one, gently rolling with a much slower pace to the song and open and accessible passages, not closed off and tense as in Limehouse. The piece degenerates a little in its closing but not enough to make me think anything other than fondly of it, before a driving percussion and stand-up (I reckon) bass combination comes in to drive The Bacon Singer. This tune was never the favourite others here are and I am forever thinking this track is actually on Foburg rather than Black River Falls. It moves at a clip, which I rather like, but it is the chorus that falls slightly flat for me. I do love the mic-drop at the end though, and the way that gives way to a really tense acoustic guitar opening for the title track.

Black River Falls gives Coughlan ample license to show off his vocal talents. Light little guitar, haunting strings, melody floating up and then diving down, there is drama in this telling. It feels like a performance or a tale to be shared rather than a simple song, the atmosphere dripping off it is just fantastic, mournful and compelling without being overpowering. I am hard pushed to call a favourite tune from the disc because it is filled with moments like this, and the next tune up is no different. A really solid base, with a nice little melody layered on it, then expression galore from Cathal's voice. Payday is a dark song, dark and slightly crazy. I think my love for these songs can be tied up nicely with my appreciation of the dark, thematic aspects of  urban fantasy/modern occult stories. They share that atmosphere and tension, yet with moments of lightness that surprise you. The capacity of music to create vivid imagery never fails to astound me. A strong lyric can help a song build a really clear picture but it is far from required. 

I am but half-way through but it feels like it will be over too soon, cocooned as I am in wonderful swirling melody and most pertinently the highs and lows of Coughlan's vocal. Out Among the Ruins is another real favourite, again combining a light touch composition with air and space with expression that goes from intense to soaring. There is a line in there that mentions Opus Dei that makes me long to run a conspiracy game, but it was the title itself (also a chorus lyric) that flooded to mind when I was thinking about how I might structure a game in Albion - a post-environmental apocalypse Britain where modern life has returned to renaissance-level technology, even though the song itself does nothing to speak to that. 

The next couple of songs are probably the weakest on the disc, but I would still choose to listen to them over much else that I have waded through in recent posts. At the risk of becoming repetitive, which even the best creators do sometimes (and I am not that!), it is all in that voice. There is no end of expression in there, depth and range that gives us tenderness, sadness, tunefulness and anger, oh my the anger. This is not screaming mindlessly. No, this is rage enunciated and delivered with precision and disdain. I am fond of a little bite in my music... the principled angst that appears on early Thea Gilmore records was one of the main draws for me. Coughlan takes that to another level. Where conveyance of that bite is often reliant on sharp and witty words, lest the song not carry a tune well, here I get the impression he could make a child's bedtime story sound like the world's worst insult whilst still keeping impeccably in tune and building an audible pleasure.

I am mildly distracted by both hunger (I am snacking on crackers, not great for me, but tasty!) and the closing moments of the first quarter final of the Rugby World Cup where Wales are just edging South Africa somehow. I think part of my problem is that I am very familiar with these tunes - the disc has been in my automotive selection for as far back as I can remember and it regularly gets pulled out of the 50 or so offering to serenade me as I make my way to work. As the disc winds down (in concert with the Rugby where the Springboks have just taken the lead at last) we are treated to a slow, descriptive number with menace present in the cleverly used guitar. I am struck by how much atmosphere is smashed into these tracks with relatively little instrumentation. A few well-chosen notes are all that is needed to create that tense, gloomy and oppressive sound - as typified by the final number. This sort of composition is simply made for Coughlan's voice and it delivers time and again on this record. So there, a true favourite, and one that I would heartily recommend anyone who likes broody atmospheric songs, performed with an unmatched aplomb and which manage to enthrall rather than overwhelm.

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 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.

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.