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.

At Swim - Lisa Hannigan

Track list:

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

Running time: 39 minutes
Released: 2016

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Astronaut Meets Appleman - King Creosote

Track list:

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

Running time: 43 minutes
Released: 2016

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Cale:Drew - Jakob

Track list:

1. Controle
2. The Diffusion Of Our Inherent Situation
3. Semaphore
4. Faye
5. I Was Hidden
6. Jimmy Hoffa
7. Laburnum
8. Skew....Aard

Running time: 57 minutes
Released: 2003

I got into Jakob when I was passed the track Saint on a mix-CD from a friend. I loved the track and bought Solace, which remains a firm favourite, and loved that enough to seek out Jakob's other work. Despite picking up everything I could find, I have hardly listened beyond that first favourite album. I have no conscious opinion on any of these tracks, despite recognising a couple of titles. I know roughly what to expect, but do not know what I will make of specifics. On we go!

It is a slow start, quiet and building over a 30 second period as the sparkling guitars build up. It feels almost space-like, soundtracking a moonwalk or something. It is almost 90 seconds in when the drums join and give a structure to the playful little melody, grounding it some. This is relaxing thus far, but the tune lacks some of the maturity, urgency and vitality of, say, Malachite, the opening track from Solace which shares some significant elements with Controle. In fact, it is clear that Malachite is an evolution of this track, given a bit more of an edge, a greater definition. It is just a better realisation of the same idea; Controle feels like a rough demo tape, discovered long after the band were signed. I should point out that Malachite is one of my favourite tracks, particularly good for driving. Seeing its roots here is interesting in an academic sense, but also a little underwhelming.

We move on then. There is a shadow to Jakob's work, a dark theme rife with tension. Shadow cannot exist without light though and whilst a lot of the tones are threatening, low and harsh that is offset often by a soaring hopeful strand, giving the contrast that makes their music work for me. When it goes too far in one direction it loses some of the appeal, and I find moments like that in The Diffusion of Our Inherent Situation (which is an unwieldy track title to say the least). It has moments to savour, but it has, too, passages where the top end is lost and it devolves to less interesting bassy grumbles. I am more taken with the opening of Semaphore. A busy, tremulous melody and a pacy rhythm open it up, so when it goes low and growling, that top end still there buried under the fuzz, it works as an offset.

I have been buying music this morning; I realised it had been a while since I checked what was out, or due out soon, and took a trawl. I will have bought more in August than I managed to listen to in the month, which is not a good way of getting this project done. That said, it has been such a difficult few weeks one way and another, the light pattern of posting is not one that I hope to carry forward. There is a lovely transition between growly Semaphore and floaty Semaphore towards the end of the track. That moment made the tune for me, even if the floatiness ends up being an overlong outro. We dive then into a more reflective mood for Faye. This is slower, deliberate. The bass pattern is short, applied in turn to each of a few notes, and giving as much space as possible to the melody. The tune then surprises me by introducing vocal elements. I cannot make out words and wouldn't suddenly call this a song. If this were review and not play report I would have been remiss I guess to not mention before now that Jakob are an instrumental outfit, and if you had to slap a label on them then that label would say Post Rock.

I feel out of practice writing these, mostly because I am. I am finding less to pick up on, fewer thoughts arriving that are related to what I am hearing whilst more general cogitation goes on instead. This will be an odd read, I suspect. Case in point, I Was Hidden feels a little flat. Nice enough tune but no real distinguishing features arise to prompt me to commit anything interesting to words.

From this point on the tracks are longer again. Controle was over 8 minutes, but the numbers since then are all less than 6. Long is usual in this genre, and perhaps that length encourages variations that will bring about discussion. We'll see. Jimmy Hoffa has a nice cadence to it as it begins. A determined walk or stride. There is a nice balance between the bass and the wandering lead line, enough space between them to sail an oil tanker to begin with, this closes up as the top end tightens into something more definite, less flighty. The gap closes altogether as the tune develops, advancing into a churning swell, drums kicking up a notch and everything crescendos together. Then it breaks up, circling around again. The percussion has a more definite presence in maintaining that distance between treble and bass now, almost as if they cleared the decks. The tune is suddenly over. My mind wandered, I lost my train of thought, and I am only snapped back to it by the transition to the next track.

This is a very different tune. Slow, mournful opening. Funerial almost. It becomes more palatable once the drums join in to provide some context to the piece. It opens up and gets a more hopeful sound in places, whilst still maintaining that sad theme beneath it all. I think I really like this track. I wasn't sure about the beginning, but the way it builds and shifts is incredibly soothing, although it has a little of the effect of a mind wipe as I found myself drifting blankly for the majority of the duration and again only stirred as it reached denouement.The end point of the album now, complete with weird use of 4 periods. It isn't an ellipsis, misused, in the middle of Skew....Aard. This track is darker, slower, grinding feedback, less defined top end, a real buzzing throb of a track. My only problem with it is that it goes on a little too long without changing that up enough. I find myself without much in the way of words to accompany the ongoing sound, or better to explain how it walks the tightrope between being boringly samey, disappointingly noisy and yet very listenable at the same time. The track only changes up for the very end when the melody that was hinted at in Controle, and would become Malachite appears briefly as a vanishing lead out. It makes me feel like I should be ragging on them for overuse of the same theme, but frankly when it evolved to become one of my favourite things, the most I can manage is a cheeky finger-wag.

Overall this is a pointer, a sign towards Solace. Nothing like as accomplished, but just about interesting enough to stand on its own. 

All the Records on the Radio are Shite - Ballboy

Track list:

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

Running time: 11 minutes
Released: 2002

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

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

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

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

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

Track list:

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

Running time: 35 minutes
Released: 2016

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

The Cage was Unlocked All Along - Zoey Van Goey

Track list:

1. The Best Treasure Stays Buried   
2. We Don't Have That Kind Of Bread   
3. Sweethearts In Disguise   
4. We All Hid In Basements   
5. Two White Ghosts   
6. Foxtrot Vandals   
7. My Persecution Complex   
8. Nae Wonder   
9. Cotton Covering   
10. City Is Exploding

Running time: 33 minutes
Released: 2009

This is a gem. Glasgow-based (but otherwise multi-national non-Scots) Zoey Van Goey are purveyors of a charming and fun indie-pop sound on this record. I think I owe LastFM a debt of thanks for bringing them to my attention. After loving this a lot, I was giddy when they released follow-up Propeller Versus Wings, but felt they couldn't re-bottle the lightning that made this so special. Lets hear why.

We open with a skittering, broken sort of sound that takes 20 seconds or so to resolve into an understated tune, and a wonderful vocal. The Best Treasure Stays Buried is a parting song, but one with the hope of reforming later. Its a story in a song, an after the event heist recount, a love song, a gorgeous little melody, a wellspring of hope. The chorus is... one of those my mind grabs onto sometimes as an embodiment of one of those things I miss out on as a perpetually single person. It's one of my favourite tunes, but I'm not sure its even my favourite on this album.

The tone shifts next, more uptempo but more kooky. Actually this whole album is kinda kitsch and geeky in terms of the imagery in the lyrics, I guess that's part of the appeal. It's not like the general subject of the songs is particularly different from most indie and pop, or indeed indie-pop, but the specifics of the implementation are a bit off-the-wall in places. It gives the album a unique selling point that, when married to the cute little compositions gives me a reason to keep coming back to it. Sweethearts in Disguise is another shift, a soft acoustic guitar leads this one. I particularly like the duet of the chorus. The female lead vocal is nice but when offset by an almost whisper-volume male underlay it really soars. I think I read somewhere that these songs were written long before the band got together or something, that the songwriter had years to work on them as a labour of love. If true, it shows; if not then some alchemy produced the same effect faster. Each song has a theme and focus, and a performance that embodies it. Musically it shifts the tone from track to track, whilst generally sticking in the light poppy genre.

We All Hid In Basements is a post-apocalyptic love song, sort of. The overall tone of the piece is fearful (of change, of lack of change, of technology, of the modern world), but the central message is a soppy love song about going through that with a loved one. The crescendo builds a nice more elaborate sound, set off by a really high pitched line singing through a wall of noisier low-end sound. It's a little post-rocky for a second; I really like that.

This is a short album, clocking in at just over half an hour for 10 tracks it means each one flies by and, given the tonal changes from song to song, that helps keep it really fresh. A bright, simple little guitar hook supports Two White Ghosts, a memory of TEFL (I guess) and finding solace in the arms of a fellow traveller. Its one of two weaker songs in the set, but it is still thoroughly listenable. Then we hit what has become my favourite ZvG song. Foxtrot Vandals is... well, what I imagine certain things I don't have to be like. It's a blitz of light, colour and overwhelming emotion wrapped up in a pacy, breathless song with an absolutely stunning little chorus:

and i just want to take you home again
so we can break the law
that keeps our feet down on the floorboards
nowhere to fall

 In context its stunning, out of context here it looks trite. Maybe its just me.

My Persecution Complex is another peppy-paced number, more of a lovers tiff in a tune. Its catchy little rhythm, lovely little vocal, emotional honesty and tempo roll together into a very enjoyable track. The bridge is a mournful little string tune, which has just enough loneliness to it to really suck me in, and whilst the lead out gets a little dull, the song's work is done. Then we get the oddest and least accessible tune on the disc. Nae Wonder is a slow piece, ethereal strings backing alternating female/male lines which are definitely sung, but at a stately, speech-like quality. It then samples an old Scottish voice talking. The music never really picks up that much and whilst the swirling, tinkling bell-like sounds are nice enough, the song feels out of place really.

Cotton Covering returns to the same kind of pace of Foxtrot Vandals and My Persecution Complex, but has yet another subtly different tone to it. It's definitely another lovers song, but this is a rolling force of personality. the energy to this is more controlled, forceful, directed than the pure outburst of FV or the regretful release of MPC. The vocal shares some of the breathlessness, as a lot is crammed into lines that aren't given that much space by the constantly rolling guitars. The only pause for breath is in the chorus, which echoes the regretful themes from other tracks on the record. It's a wonder, but Foxtrot Vandals overtook it as my favourite tune here a while back.

The final piece is a slower, lower one. This provides a nice book-ending effect. The album opens and closes with soft sounds, starts and ends with differently expressed views of (absent) loves. I've found this listen difficult; much as I love these tunes, the speed at which they ticked by did not leave me much time to think. Whilst this final track gives me that as it has a bit more space in it, I ponder on the little romantic inside of me which leads me to be charmed by songs such as these. There's no doubt that this album is one of quirky love songs; that shouldn't mean much to me, but it does.

A final note for the album cover: the picture above is only part of the sleeve, it folds out into a wonderful little cartoony scene. I found the full imagery charming, like the songs on the disc it tells its own quirky story. It is that ever-so-slightly bizarre charm that really sells this record. One of the best you've never heard.

Byrne - EP - Byrne

Track list:

2. Nothing Left Here
3. Time Wounds All Heals

Running time: 9 minutes
Released: 2003

Almost through B now after slogging since Jan 2015. I am missing track 1 (Tidal Wave) because it would duplicate a track from Byrne's mini-album Slowly and Gloriously, of which I was very fond back when I picked it up. That makes this a very short listen. The band vanished pretty quickly after this, too. Lets see if that was a shame.

It is Monday morning, I'm waiting for the damp surveyor. Lets try to sneak this in before he gets here, and before I have to start work.

Nothing Left Here starts with a fairly generic acoustic guitar hook, an interesting vocal comes in. It sounds vaguely harmonic but I think its post-processing rather than multiple voices. The arrangement grows a little to support the song, which is soft and distant. There is a bit of a swell for the chorus, but this is not a loud track: it is a reflective one. Understated British indie music of the early 2000s. Could be any of many. I do like the vocal though.

Time Wounds All Heals - they must have thought this a clever play on words but the rearrangement makes no sense. It has a more defined, stronger sound. The vocal effects are similar; I am trying but failing to recall who it reminds me of. I prefer the melody here, there is a nice ring to the main guitar part, but in truth it is a very bland indie guitar band song without much to distinguish it from a thousand others bar the fact I am listening to it right now. The lead out is a bit different and spacey, which lends the track a changed feel in hindsight, so that's nice.

A diverting enough 9 minutes I suppose but I really have little else to say about it. Roll on the Cs.