Buoyancy - Nils Petter Molvær

Track list:

1. Ras Mohammed
2. Gilimanuk
3. Moute Cave
4. Jackson Reef
5. Puri Jati
6. Lamna Reef
7. Amed
8. Martoli Bridge
9. Kingfish Castle
10. Maddagala

Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 2016

More Scandi-jazz, bought alongside Atmosphères - though I have been familiar with Molvær for longer than Henriksen. I was first attracted by description of how the trumpet was laid on over electronic soundscapes but to be honest since my initial purchase (NP3) I think I may have been picking stuff up based on name recognition and concept rather than any deep appreciation of Molvær's actual material. This will be a good litmus test.

It opens with a heartbeat-sounding throb, but then introduces prog-rockish guitars, the horn lurking inside melodies that wouldn't be out of place in a concept album. The piece picks up some pace about the 2.30 mark and it has a decent life to it, but it is a little removed from anything I could have expected going in. I am starting to wonder whether a trumpet appears at all in this Pink Floydian first tune when I hear a snatch of it, unmistakable. It is not the star though, part of the ensemble here.

As we leave prog-rock behind for the start of the second track, the attention does focus on the blower. This tune is slower, languid, and with a hint of danger. Night time noir music - I have used this description many times by now and I still find it the most easily evocative phrasing for what I mean. Rooted in soundtracks, night shots of cities, aerial or street shots, camera pans - scene setting stuff rather than accompanying the action or showdowns - but definitely reminiscent of a certain type of tension. Jazz is good at this, even when not made by the Americans that come most readily to mind when thinking of Noir. Even when the sounds are more modern than the "classic" noir era would support. I think its fair to say I like Gilimanuk, though the name could use some work.

After a brief interlude we hit a more percussive number, Jackson Reef being driven by a high tempo and heavy on the electronics. The themes that come out dominant are actually slow, low and spaced out affairs, and the contrast between this and the incessant pace set by the drumming creates a decent cauldron before the melodies get a bit of a fuel injection and become more intricate for a while. I prefer the contrast though, and when that comes back the track improves again. About a minute from the end the percussion dies out and we get an outro that feels like a different track. Similarity is maintained in the guitars and the lonely trumpet strikes up to carry us home, outlasting the strands of continuity. It makes for a strange ride of a tune, but apart from the moment where the drums just stop it works quite nicely and organically.

I have, I am sure, mentioned before about my weakness for long, lonely notes. I find that the trumpet is pretty much king when it comes to delivering on this. There is a yearning in the natural timbre of this instrument that when employed in certain fashion or style becomes the dominant and overriding emotion in the piece. Puri Jati has this in spades and I really like it. The tune also manages to hark back to the Bastion soundtrack by virtue of its low-end structures, and that reference makes me smile. The two themes I picked up there should be incongruous in many ways but I find they knit together well. As I consider that, the disc plays on and a slower number lazily reaches out to my ears. There is definite variation on this disc, which is a plus-point... though as I type that the electronics evolve into a high pitched squeak and make for a rather unpleasant end to the track.

Amed is the longest track on the disc. To now, everything has been relatively short and sweet, lending a feeling of momentum even on the tracks with less pace. This one stretches to 9 minutes, and as such I am expecting a centrepiece.

It starts slow, atmospheric, and builds. Mostly bass and trumpet, the former bringing threat and the latter bringing hope. When, about half way through, the guitars and electronics arrive they emphasize the first of these two elements, and it becomes a dark, screechy track, long drawn out screeches, cries for help. The drums and bass pick up speed and the thrumming basis for the piece grows around the electronics, establishing dominance. It has definitely built, and it definitely works as a focal point for the disc. The trumpet, meanwhile, disappeared somewhere along the way; what results is a piece that I like but which could be by any number of purveyors of electronica. Then it all goes quiet, the trumpet returns and we end with a final act that bids recollection, reminiscence. A masterwork it isn't, but it is a good solid epic around which to build the album.

Three tracks come after. The first is short and reverential, Molvær's horn standing alone, with some background static that hints at waves; it's a nice palate cleanser. The next actually resonates with the title of the album, the rhythms here conjouring images of a boat rocking on waves, tipping cargo gently from side to side and making soft impacts each time. Its a lovely effect because whilst the reality of boats bobbing on waves isn't as regular as the rhythm behind this sound, the actual beat pattern carries a feel of irregularity to it, whilst still serving as the backbone for the themes that are layered over it. This might be my favourite track on the disc, and I have only really taken on board the percussion. The bobbing percussion is dropped at the end, along with all themes, for an engine-like rumble that just sees the tune out; this I find an odd choice, and a disappointing one.

The final track feels lighter, pairing the trumpet with a nice guitar theme which gives me a Mogwai-like vibe, albeit perhaps a little more chilled. I can't shake the feeling it goes too long without introducing major variation though, and it all merges to become a little bland as a result. Nice sounds, but going nowhere, if you will. There is a shake up in tone and theme about the midpoint of the track but it feels too late. The tune, particularly the trumpet line, is nice but my brain has already disengaged a little, the smell of food cooking, and the knowledge of work to do.

All in all, I think this is a nice disc, and one I can see spending more time with, but not anything outstanding. Molvær's ideas are interesting and worth exploring, even if they don't always reach that one step further that would turn them to genius.

Atmosphères (Disc 2) - Tigran Hamasyan, Arve Henriksen, Eivind Aarset, Jan Bang

Track list:

9. Traces VII
10. Traces VIII
11. Shushiki
12. Hoy, Nazan
13. Traces IX
14. Traces X
15. Angel Of Girona / Qeler Tsoler

Running time: 39 minutes
Released: 2016

Disc 2 of Atmosphères. I have continued track list numerically, because I can, and because that is how it was represented when I looked it up wherever it was I copied it from.

Yesterday I loved part 1; the opening notes of this disc though leave a fair bit to be desired. Chaotic is probably the best word for it. Entropic. Not musical, more a collection of snatched sounds from the various instruments and samples rather than a piece to be enjoyed. Cohesion comes into the picture a bit more as the tune finds its feet but it is still a far cry from the best strains of yesterday's enjoyment - the mellow and caressed playing is nowhere in sight. And this track is 9 minutes long. Poles apart from yesterday.

I am a frustrated man this evening. Back to work tomorrow morning for a very busy day, and one of my main aims for the weekend has been shot down. Twice I went round the neighbours' place to talk to them about the damp situation that my plumber and building inspector both thought was likely to be a leak on their side; twice no answer. The first time I think they were out, but the second time, windows open, washing out... no answer all the same. Frustrating. Need to get their landlord's phone number because if there is a leak their side I can't repair the damage on mine with any confidence. I was hoping that some gloriously created jazz themes might be the antidote to that frustration, but this digression is because Traces VII never does come together as an enjoyable piece. It gets less cacophonous and more considered in places but the overall impression is still far from favourable.

This is the only really long piece on disc 2. Like the first half, this part of Atmosphères is made up of more bitesize numbers, with the other 6 all under that many minutes. Traces VIII is a little more akin to the glories of disc 1 but it still seems to me to have an edge to it, a tension and a starkness. The trumpet is taut, bleak and stretched in places, the piano wandering the lower registers of its keyboard. Isolation and unease are two major impressions that I am getting. At this point, I think I will welcome the two Komitas tunes to come, and I find myself wondering if that is why they ordered the tracks in this way.

I got some proper exercise today, getting out cycling. I didn't go far really - probably no further in fact than my previous two exploratory forays - but what I did do is leave town and do a stretch which involved no stopping or slowing for the first time since I bought the bike. Glad I did, though I felt like I was dying after I made it back (not before mind; only once I was back in the door). They say it's good for you, you know.

The music has definitely taken another step towards coherence and recognisable tunes. Not as astounding as those on the first half, but better in that regard (and in favour) than the first two numbers of tonight's attention. The main piano theme in Shushiki is gorgeous, the space they have filled around it somewhat less so. Another beautiful piano melody strikes up as that one dies. Hoy, Nazan quickly becoming my favourite so far this evening. There is a wonderful clarity about the sound of the keys here, up and down the scale, played quickly as fingers flicker hither and yon. The other instruments exist only to offer support, as it should be. This is more like it, but very fleeting.

Two more Traces next. The first one is all wandering sounds... like an empty pitch black room where things collide occasionally. You hear the silence as a sense of space - walls enclosing you as the darting noises come and go. It segues from a piano melody to the trumpet at some point... melody in the loosest sense of the word. Like on the first disc I see them building a real, well, atmosphere through their playing. Unlike yesterday I am failing to find the magic in the creations. Maybe that speaks more to my mindset, my frustration coming through, but I think there is a tonal shift here. Less beautifully played soft piano pieces with haunting backing, more haunting backing with occasional tune surfacing. It feels kind of backwards. The final Trace is a low rumble, two minutes with virtually nothing else to it, then a brief hint of a tune. It isn't enough, but when it does start building the swells of sound are really very appealing, subtlety restored and bringing rewards. Perhaps this second post is prejudiced by the first. I had no expectations yesterday; today they were high and largely dashed.

The final number is a lonely trumpet calling out over wandering bassy keys and the now de rigueur atmospherics. The trumpet has an Asian or Middle-Eastern aspect to it; fitting. The close comes with the sound of waves, sweeping in and washing away the final trace. Overall, Atmosphères is still very good - but I found this second half far less enthralling than the first. Right place, right time perhaps.

Atmosphères (Disc 1) - Tigran Hamasyan, Arve Henriksen, Eivind Aarset, Jan Bang

Track list:

1. Traces I
2. Tsirani Tsar
3. Traces II
4. Traces III
5. Traces IV
6. Traces V / Garun A
7. Traces VI
8. Garun A (Variation)

Running time: 49 minutes
Released: 2016

Left-field purchase time. Well, sort of. I have a fair bit of Scandinavian jazz music kicking about and I was familiar with Avre Henriksen, which is why this caught my eye when browsing Amazon recently. The blurb made this work sound particularly interesting - based around Armenian folk patterns, courtesy of the pianist, which could be a nice blend. First listen.

The thing I immediately notice is the names of the tracks. Everything is Traces, except tunes that are directly handed down from Armenian musician Komitas. I guess the others are "traces" of his work too, to some degree, giving the album its theme. Most of them are short - a touch over pop song length, not what I might have expected going in - but Traces V makes up for that, running to 12 minutes.

The opening bars are quiet. There is a humming, slow oscillating bass and then a light-touch piano starts up. It is all very chilled, very zen. Very discreet background music for quiet moments. You couldn't listen to this whilst out and about, or whilst driving, because you just wouldn't hear it over the intrusions of the wider world. Its soft enough listening to it in my front room with just a hint of traffic noise from wet roads coming in from outside. I like the gentleness of it, though it would perhaps be better for late night relaxation than early evening study. The piece remains all about the keys and that thrum, though another focal point is added towards the end of the piece; the trumpet hardly makes an audible appearance, and I believe that one of the others is a guitarist and there is little concrete trace of them either.

There is a real charm about the way Hamasyan caresses the keys of his piano. He has a soft touch, a wandering hand that reminds me of the joys of simply letting your hands wander over keys with no real forethought of what might come up. The piano is most noticeable in the higher registers, which adds to this lazy improvisational impression - even as he is playing one of the composed pieces. Here, Henriksen's trumpet is the main accompaniment, taking up a significant part of the melody. Again there is a low-level brooding in the background sounds; it reminds me a little of Vangelis', specifically some of the Blade Runner soundtrack in places - coming back to how little melodies drift in and out over a slightly brooding background. Do like.

Suddenly all is a blur of motion, rapid hands running all over the keyboard. That is quite a departure in tone, nothing like as soothing as what has gone before. The hubbub dies down a little at the Traces continue, but it has introduced a more frenetic, more urgent sound and feeling to the work. That energy persists even as the piece is muted, low amplitude, in the vein of what came before. This second Trace stands alone in its urgency though, as that impetus and energy is absent again once the track ticks over. On the one hand I now miss it; on the other the piano part is so darn nice that whilst I find the slow tempo, quietude, and generally subdued nature of the pieces soporific, I also find the music enchanting and enticing.

The quiet nature of the pieces does seem to encourage distraction though in the context of this exercise. If I were sat back, not recording my thoughts, I could close my eyes and concentrate on the low key wonder, the spaces in and around the melodies in these tracks. Having to be upright, alert and typing though, the sparse nature of the work finds me falling into sinkholes - spaces in the music becoming spaces in my thought as my concentration wavers from my task. I have said before that these posts are not reviews, and I am not a critic; I find it hard to put the right words on this work. My wavering attention is absolutely not a bad sign, not correlated to my appreciation. This is a special kind of disc... it is so much of a light touch that sometimes you may lose track of it, but every trace you find and catch is amazingly well executed that despite the tendency to want a little more to latch on to it draws you in, right up until the point where the sound drops so soft that you lose track again.

I have hit the long number and for the first time some dissent. The way is opens (hah! It is 3 minutes in by the time I am typing this) is less enveloping, less magical. I couldn't close my eyes and drift on this in the way that I could with what has come before.

I find myself wondering where music like this fits in the modern world; the pieces espouse quiet, calm and solitude and it really takes an effort to create the right space to listen to such things. Time and effort I don't imagine most people can or will make. Hell, were it not for this project I doubt I would ever get to enjoy this... I would have bought it, then skipped every track on a shuffle for being too quiet, too demanding to listen to in the same way that I consume the majority of my music. And that is a real shame. I am less than half way through Atmosphères (given there is a second disc to come) but it is leaving quite an impression. It is properly an album, not a collection of tunes, and it demands to be consumed as such. Were its pieces surrounded by tonally dissonant works, these are the ones that would suffer more for it. And for all that I am loving these tunes, I doubt seriously that I will ever enjoy them quite the same way, or as much, again. One and done, despite falling in love with it. That thought makes me sad, but the realities of keeping this project moving - of finding the time to the things I have decided for myself I will listen to - have proved difficult enough in busy times.

Mood, killed.

Trace 6 is disappointing. Like the one earlier that had unexpected energy, this is at odds with the overall tone of the record. Unlike that one, this does not seem to have much else to recommend it instead. It is a more piecemeal effort, with the musicians coming across less in sync, and the piano, which I have particularly loved, relegated to a bit part/supporting role. It just falls a little flat, though part of that may be my self-induced buzzkill. Thankfully the final piece - another Komitas-penned tune - ends this first half on a more representative and enjoyable note, with the piano and trumpet weaving around each other nicely.

I have no words left, find myself at a loss to adequately describe the nature of the sounds. I am left with the nagging doubt that progress isn't always such, and that the pace of modern life does much to zone out work like this, to our detriment.

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.