Brugada - Sweet Billy Pilgrim

Track list:

1. Brugada

Running time: 5 minutes
Released: 2012

It appears this was actually a track from another album (Crown and Treaty), but I think I have it listed on its own because it was promotional gubbins; I certainly never bought Crown and Treaty. Whilst I was suckered into the hype around Twice Born Men, which included a Mercury nod and an appearance in an episode of The IT Crowd, that didn't turn into sustained interest and I therefore surmise this must have been a freebie. 

It starts with a nice trembling sound, but the fragile vocal is affected and adds nothing. The sound is better in the chorus where the singing is stronger. The strain in the voice in the verses doesn't come across as an emotional one (though as this song is reportedly about a sibling's untimely demise that wouldn't be out of place). I find that, when they release themselves, they can pick out a nice tune, and I shall maintain this for the chorus which soars and swirls in a pleasant fashion, but I shall not be looking up any more.

Broken Beats - Pogo

Track list:

1. Gitch
2. White Dresses
3. Symphony #69
4. Hate from Love
5. Get Out...
6. Come In...
7. SlowMo Rain
8. Drunk in the Mat-Mobile

Running time: 22 minutes
Released: 2008

Random insert time. This is apparently a 2013 album according to Amazon, iTunes etc. but I could have sworn that I have had these tracks for much longer than that, lying around unappreciated after I grabbed them when they were offered for free on LastFM. Going back to that source, and via there Wikipedia, it seems it was a 2008 release and that the creator is an Australian. My only inkling is that this is some kind of electronica, and I can only assume that I picked it up because I noticed it as free - even if it no longer is. No idea what I will make of it.

It is almost impossible to read that first track name and not insert an "l"; glitch being an actual word. It has a rather cheesy tune behind, not over, some programmed beats. Here the melody is clearly background to the rhythms by virtue of the amplitude of the recordings. It is thoroughly inoffensive stuff, though the little vocal sample is a bit blah, and it sets a tone that is continued by the second track. Some old-timey style sounds in a distant sample and percussive structure layered on top. I find White Dresses less engaging, like a poor man's Public Service Broadcasting; there are vocal snippets that feel like they should be used PSB style, but there is a lot less innovation or interest in the music crafted around them.

I don't think the PSB comparison is fair, though. Those guys built tracks around their samples. Here the old material is being sampled in and sprinkled for interest. It's not as good, but it is not setting out to do the same thing, either. Symphony #69 is longer at 4 minutes (the first two were short pieces) and it really shouldn't be. There is not enough happening in the tune to justify the extra run-time and I find myself wishing it closed before it concludes. It is replaced by a darker sound, a more interesting sound initially - but one that gets stale even before its sub 2-minute time is up. For my taste there is not quite enough happening in these tunes; the structures are alright but there aren't the elements in place around that to lift the pieces to a level where I feel I really want to listen to them. I feel like I have heard the whole track after the first 10 seconds. I feel...

I feel... uninspired. This gives me the impression of early experiments; a young artist playing about, finding a style, hitting on some reasonable patterns and then perhaps not having the nous or experience to build upon that and deliver something that reaches beyond the bland. I hope he learned and improved, because there's something to it in places. Come In... is a step in the right direction, softer, subtler. It sounds more engaging than the 4 tracks before it, but I can't shake the feeling it is just resetting to the same baseline Gitch was working from.

The last two tracks lose me completely though, just offering nothing to get engaged with. The final track in particular is a mess; I guess that is intentional given the name, but frankly I can only suppose that you need to be drunk or stoned or high or something to find it other than awful. So, yes... weird freely downloaded music is weird I guess. Nothing here to be excited about, but two tracks that weren't entirely forgettable to maintain.

Broadside - Bellowhead

Track list:

1. Byker Hill
2. The Old Dun Cow
3. Roll the Woodpile Down
4. 10,000 Miles Away
5. Betsy Baker
6. Black Beetle Pies
7. Thousands or More
8. The Dockside Rant / Sailing With the Tide
9. The Wife of Usher's Well
10. What's the Life of a Man (Any More Than a Leaf?)
11. Lillibulero
12. Go My Way

Running time: 46 minutes
Released: 2012

Bellowhead are no more. By now they have played their last gig, which is sad - but then all things must end, and better they went out whilst still darn good than living on to drop in quality. Anyhow - I said a while back that it would be a few folk-packed weeks, well the infrequency of my posting put paid to that. However I do still have to get through a couple of Bellowhead albums before I can move on to C after what seems like being stuck on the Bs forever; almost 18 months now!

Broadside never received much play from me as an album before, but spawned their biggest single, one of my favourites, and probably the worst thing Bellowhead ever did, all in one. It starts with Byker Hill, which - my only other referenced for Byker being the Grove of BBC childrens TV of the early 90s - I guess must have been from the North East. Ooh. The talk of colliers fits, at least. This has an anthemic feel to it, the whole band joining in on the chorus, and a consistent pace thumping it forward. It is let down as a song by the sheer reliance on repetition, but the sense of place and purpose in the piece redeem it.

The Old Dun Cow makes good use of bassy brass to set the tone - fitting more with a gangster film than its actual subject. There is an urgency in the vocal here, breathy and quick in places, which gives the song character and contrasts with the structure from those deep horns. The break out into saxophone solo was unexpected, and didn't add much really. Crowd favourite next; I like Roll the Woodpile Down - any tune where Paul Sartin pulls the Oboe out has an appeal - but I have never quite understood why this is every other Bellowhead fan's #1 tune. Its nice and radio-friendly, which explained why it did so well, it's short and snappy, but with that it is also very formulaic. I find it doesn't quite have the really sweet melody of a Betsy Baker or the jaunt of a Haul Away. I guess I am just being a bit curmudgeonly here; it's a fine tune, just not a personal fave.

I heard a number of these tracks twice yesterday; not thinking about this project I was re-listening to the first disc of the Farewell Tour live album in the car to and from both work and gaming in the evening. Whilst I normally try to avoid that kind of action, I don't really mind. Save one or two tracks, even if I am not being openly positive here, my general take on Bellowhead is one of a comfortable familiarity. Their best work turns that into losing myself but mostly its just relaxing. I have to forgive Betsy Baker for being from Swindon - I first saw them play it live there in the steam railway museum - because the oboe melody is probably my favourite tune in all their work. It's not my favourite Bellowhead track (I think I would have to say that's Across the Line from Burlesque), but it is right up there... despite most of what I said about Roll the Woodpile Down applying equally here - the repetition certainly applies to the melody, yet I give it a pass because it is so light, fanciful and lyrical.

Black Beetle Pies is awful by comparison. An experiment with discordance. It is actually far more palatable on record than live. Here the recording de-emphasizes the more cacophonous elements, allowing me to appreciate their intent without the roundly negative responses I always felt hearing this in concert. We pass on to a track that probably encapsulates the standard Bellowhead song in terms of the basic structure, tune, melody and style, but which lacks the true character of the band. Thousands or More is just... flat, missing something. Tunes... the other side of the band and, probably, my natural bias in terms of enjoyment. I don't think The Dockside Rant is a short and approachable pair but not a set that ring any bells for me. Nice enough, and with enough character to be enjoyable, but not their finest.

There is a darker tone to The Wife of Usher's Well - chanting over a taut and insistent string striking, a more expansive chorus, but still with contrasting voices building that feeling of tension and disquiet. I actually really like this for the sense of drama it creates, a good reset after the tune set. Hearing What's the Life of a Man I cannot but think of Tom Waits. Whilst this is a traditional number, here it is rendered in true Waitsian style... oompah, rapid chanting, tempo shifts, vocal gruffness. Very vaudeville. It is another song that relies overmuch on a repeated chorus, but the tone of the track and the energy of it carries the day here (I found the live recording went on a little too long when driving yesterday, but I don't notice that now).

Time has flown by and we're into the last couple of tracks. Lillibulero was a live staple, but to be honest it has always been an underwhelming number for me. I am maddeningly inconsistent and fickle on this, but I find the repetition of the title in this track a bit of a sore point compared with the repetition of other elements in other tracks. Go My Way is unfamiliar to me, never a live track, but I like its overall tone and it works as a closer... right up until the point it drops out suddenly and then, after a moment of silence we get a fiddle melody which shifts the nature of the track. Thankfully this builds up with the percussion and horns coming into it and there is another, fitting, crescendo before the track, and the album conclude.

After sitting through Broadside, I can see why I never really listened to it much. By now I was already used to seeing them live; I had established favourites; there are noticeable weaker tracks. However there are also some nice highs and it forms part of a catalogue that I am glad to have in full.

Are You Serious - Andrew Bird

Track list:

1. Capsized
2. Roma Fade
3. Truth Lies Low
4. Puma
5. Chemical Switches
6. Left Handed Kisses
7. Are You Serious
8. Saints Preservus
9. The New Saint Jude
10. Valleys of the Young
11. Bellevue
12. Shoulder Mountain
13. Pulaski

Running time: 49 minutes
Released: 2016

What is it with my 2016 purchases all falling in to A and B? This is another that shunts overdue posts further down the list. It is the third Andrew Bird album to appear on these pages and this is my first listen to any of the tracks. I skipped one in a shuffle an evening or two ago because I was primed to do this, and because Bird didn't fit my mood at the time - I can be picky like that. However now it is his game in town. I have the "deluxe" edition with 2 bonus tracks.

One of the first things I note in the booklet as I open the physical package is a thank you to Fiona Apple, who guests on one of these tracks... very interesting! But enough of the physicalities (deluxe is overselling it), and on to the listen. It catches me off guard with a rocky opening, electrified, nice cadence. Strong start. There is a funkiness to the rhythm, the roll of the piece, that I really like, and although it becomes clear that the song lyrics are less than inspired the vocal style and the overall feel of the track keep it interesting. 

Roma Fade is more immediately recognisible as an Andrew Bird track - his distinctive staccato violin picking and whistling combination opening the track. There is a liveliness in the tempo here too, and some low-fi guitar work in the background, but here the initial star is Bird's voice. It becomes a bit lost in the other sounds as the track progresses, which is a shame but a sign of a growing and varied supporting cast of instruments rather than his performance tailing off. The track ends rather suddenly and we are pitched in to Truth Lies Low, which ... well, I can't find words to describe the odd effect here. It works, rather, but its a sort of low background hum plus voice. The dominant sounds are really hard to articulate. As the song builds it becomes a little more appreciable - the violin part coming in to give some top end. I find I like it a lot, though it touches on some sounds that make me think of cheesy lounge music or incomplete demo recordings in different places.

Andrew Bird isn't the first name that comes to mind when thinking about my favourite artists, but at the same time, his name on something makes it an instant buy from me by now. He is varied, which is one of the things I really like. The three songs so far have all felt very different in tone, and that continues to be the case with Puma, too. This is a man comfortable with several styles, rhythms and arrangements. In general this album seems to share a harder low-end sound than some others. The guitar work forming much of the structure a bit of a darker, tougher sound than the top end and influencing the overall sound of the songs more, without swamping the fiddling. It takes a while for the whistling to be broken out in full, but it is there on the intro to Chemical Switches, albeit in a slow, subdued fashion, subservient to the twang on the guitar. This track is really stripped back, acoustic only. Its the best yet - a really nice, clear melody and the right kind of feel for a Tuesday evening alone after (for the second day running) evening plans got cancelled. The song ends meekly, dropping out a little, but that's the only bad point.

Now we get a duet with Apple, whose first couple of albums are amongst my all time favourites. I am not sure that I would recognise her voice here if I didn't know it was her though... it is lower, older (no surprise some 20 years on from Tidal). Her voice here is lower than his in places, in tone if not in pitch. I find, though that the song is a little disappointing - not much to it, and I missed too many of the lyrics (that old problem) to get a sense of the point. The deficit in arrangement is shown up by what came before and what comes after.

I zoned out for a little bit, brought back around by a neat change of tempo mid-track in Saints Preservus (why the concatenation?). The pace injected is suddenly lost again and the piece turns almost classical, before the momentum is picked up again. Nicely done, and another sign of Bird's comfort across a range of performing styles. 

I am trying to find more to say but I keep falling back on one cliché or another or something I have already said. Not my finest, clearest thinking tonight I am afraid. I would be lying if I said I was as engaged by this point as I was at the commencement of the album, but at the same time I am sort-of sinking into it, losing track of my thoughts because the space Bird creates is comfortable and pleasant. I am into the bonus tracks now. There is a bit of a hint of The Leisure Society about Shoulder Mountain, which is no bad thing at all, more present in the verse than the chorus. I really like this number. Pulaski rounds us out with an Asian-ish sound to the opening, though this is quickly lost for the vocal sections it returns for an instrumental insert later and makes for an interesting tune.

Overall I think this is a pretty strong album without ever really being stellar. It felt a bit like slipping into comfortable clothes after a day dressed up for work - relaxing, reassuring and taking a weight off. Like its creator, I doubt it will ever be consciously thought of as a favourite, but it hits a large number of notes that I really appreciate. Very glad I picked it up.

Broadchurch O.S.T - Ólafur Arnalds

Track list:

1. Main Theme
2. Danny
3. The Journey
4. So Close
5. Suspects
6. What Did They Ask You?
7. She's Your Mother
8. Excavating The Past
9. The Meeting
10. Broken
11. I'm Not The Guilty One
12. So Far
13. Beth's Theme

Running time: 52 minutes
Released: 2015

From a videogame soundtrack to a TV show one. This was meant to be next cab on the rank a long while back, but a raft of purchases that all fell before it alphabetically, and a low output rate of late, have delayed it several weeks.

I hear Broadchurch - season 1 anyway - was good TV. I wouldn't know as I didn't catch any of it and have never felt like going back to do so. However when I saw that the soundtrack music had been composed by Ólafur Arnalds I picked it up despite my unfamiliarity with the series. I like Arnalds' style. I expect this to be a little bitty without knowledge of the visuals it was to accompany but hope that it will be stirringly good stuff all the same.

The Main Theme starts darkly, distantly. A low rumbling sound may be approximating waves. Then a spooky, isolated but simple melody arrives and takes centre stage. I think the addition of the strings, giving depth to the bleakness, raises the theme another level as the percussion picks up a pace. This is the kind of atmospheric that I wanted to feel from The Banner Saga soundtrack last time out... a different atmosphere, of course - English mystery vs. Nordic fantasy - but a complete theme. I suppose as such it speaks to the fundamentally different nature of soundtracking the two media. TV (and film) tend to get longer themes that may not be used in their entirety but are composed as such. Videogames get made-to-measure pieces that fit exactly to a specific use, and likely made to loop in case the player takes too long.

I guess that Danny was the kid that died/went missing/provoked the central mystery of the show. I could guess that from the name alone, but the tune that bears the name also suggests this quite strongly. There is an inorganic edge to the sound here that typifies Arnalds' playing with less traditional elements, but the composition is very classic soundtrack in tone. I am left suspecting that the show was about loneliness, key people being driven apart by events and their responses to them, because there is something in the music here that breeds a sense of isolation, of being cut off. When the more modern, almost Vangelis-style futuristic, sounds appear in The Journey I think it was better before they did, but at the same time they are not entirely out of place. The composer is walking a fine line there, his inclination to modernise competing a little against the sense of place the tune was composed to evoke. This is a long theme though, and the latter stages of it have a tension and conflict to them. It reminds me a little in places of several different composers or musicians in passing, in snippets too short for me to identify and name them all.

I have often said I don't like crime fiction... police TV shows. It's one of the reasons I steered clear of Broadchurch when it aired (well, that and ITV). But that is a lie; I have lapped up Line of Duty (a soundtrack I want to get, if only for the main theme) on the BBC over three series and 4 years, for example. I think what I dislike is "villain of the week" shows, one and done crimes (always murder, because drama). Serialise it, give room for the characters to shine and suffer and suddenly it becomes a backdrop like any other subject. I think I probably should go back and watch this one, because I suspect it does what I would want it to.

So close is a song, with vocals. Was not expecting that. I find I don't think much of it, either... it rather flows past me without making an impression. Suspects is a dark, tense affair to follow it, but one that opens out into a nice melody and pacing structure (albeit of a form so generic to TV scores that it hurts). There is definitely something very common about the form this composition takes, right down to the sudden end to the piece. It works, because it is incredibly evocative. It also doesn't work absent the visual media because it's a trope that is so over-used. I know, I should name other instances to back that up, and no, I can't off the top of my head. All I can say is that I am sure I have heard the same conceits used a hundred times on TV and film, and that I think that as a composition Suspects suffers without recourse to the visuals.

A couple of terse, tense numbers pass by, erasing the memory of the overused trope by drowning me in the murky uncertainties. I don't know if this is biased by enjoying this disc more, but here the shorter pieces feel more rounded and complete, more tonally consistent and more like a tune in their own right than even the longer numbers on The Banner Saga soundtrack managed to. I really don't like disparaging that soundtrack so much, because I don't think that in context it was bad at all, so let me say instead that Arnalds clearly knows how to craft accompaniments that can stand alone. I think perhaps with TV we are all so familiar with the tropes and mores that it is easier to play upon them and for us to identify and relate to them without the specific context that the composer is working to, but certainly this is much more accessible. So much so that I feel like I have heard much of it before simply because it trades on those familiarities. I can't really blame the composer for drifting into sounds that could come from a hundred different shows. Really so much of our TV explores the same themes, so why wouldn't the music for the show follow suit? The soundtrack's job is to support and enhance the visuals and there is probably a reason the sort of dark-light shifts, driving strings, and wide lens feel have become staples in the first place.

I feel like I am tarring this undeservedly, so let me say that I am enjoying this quite a lot. It is making me think of things beyond the scope of the single album though, and I find it much easier to connect these sounds to soundtracks aplenty by other musicians than I do to reference Arnalds' other work. Just because something is familiar - or popular, come to that - does not mean it lacks artistic merit. Rather than seeing a slight on the present, see a nod to the masses.

I really like the strings on Broken. There's a lovely light touch to this piece which, whilst carrying a sad tune and quite clearly not accompanying an upbeat moment, gives a sense of relief... exactly the sort of thing I was crying out for in yesterday's listen. You would expect a tune with the title "I'm Not the Guilty One" to be difficult listening, and it is. I don't find it as overtly accusatory as the title itself, but it is not a pleasant tune, edginess abundant. One element that is used a lot in soundtracking it seems is the repeated note as pacing mechanism. A single sound hit over and over to give structure and tempo, the strength of the sound dictating  the urgency of the piece. So Far uses this, and it makes me think again of Vangelis though I can't bring a particular piece or even album to reference.

On to the last. Beth's Theme starts as a lonely, light piano. It feels like a classic resolution, a sober end. Gods, when he does this I love Ólafur Arnalds... so much emotion in such a simple package. I can feel myself getting goosebumps on what has been the warmest day of the year to date - simply amazing. I can only imagine how powerful this could be with a conclusive scene to sit alongside. It ends rather meekly, but such tender tunes rarely blow out hot. I find myself thinking I really should see what the fuss was about on some form where I can avoid any ads.

The Banner Saga 2: Official Soundtrack - Austin Wintory

Track list:

1. An Oath, Until The End
2. The World is Breaking
3. Faces to the Wind  
4. Minds like Streams and Streams like Minds
5. A Path through the Skies
6. Under the Black Banner
7. Only Snow can Shield the Sun
8. Blades Yearn for Courageous Blood
9. Promises of Sanctuary
10. The Endlessly Grasping Bogs
11. Descended from Fire
12. Dragons in the Mud
13. Deep into the Rocks
14. Even the Trees can Smell your Blood
15. To the Skies
16. Children of the Fallen
17. Broken Shells
18. From the Shouting Rocks, his Eyes finally Opened
19. Paths Part
20. The Twilight Flight
21. With Eyes to the Endless Sun
22. Walls like Mountains
23. More Stars Tonight than Last Night
24. Threads Unweave
25. Our Steps, To the Night

Running time: 60 minutes
Released: 2016

A videogame soundtrack now. On those occasions I buy games on Steam, I find I am often splurging on the music too. This particular purchase was a no-brainer because the game it accompanies has a wonderful atmosphere that I am confident this will support. The Banner Saga is a series of epic Norse narrative, part wonderful story with dramatic and difficult choices, part crappy tactics battle engine. No matter how much I despise the latter, the qualities of the former made the first game one of the most moving things I had played to that point. The sequel is equally compelling and the art and aesthetic of the world they have created is so gorgeous. I tend not to overly notice the music in play because I am drawn to the text, the decisions. Now I get to listen to it in isolation, after finishing my playthrough earlier this afternoon.

The first track is short and sad, a mournful horn over stately drums definitely lays out the tone. There is tension and threat layered into this piece all the same though... this is not a static world. In fact, it is breaking - as we are told by the title of track two. This actually has a vocal of sorts leading it in, but it quickly fades away to give a very quiet background tune. Clearly a case of music written to support something, because there are no strong themes to follow in the first couple of minutes. It develops a percussion-led rumble in the last third, but the most interesting line is the tight string part that adds melody, a strained tune, but one that I would like to have heard more of.

Not to give any spoilers away, but I found the sequel to disappoint in the final throws. It opened brilliantly and was properly epic, but I found myself disliking the progression of decisions as it tapered to a close in addition to hating the core tactical aspect. The reason for that hatred is a system that wants you to keep enemies alive, but badly hurt; it's counter-intuitive and feels too much like work to learn it. I find the disappointment resulting from what I felt was a weak closing of the game - compared to the first part, which ended on a very dramatic note - bleeding through into my appreciation of the score. That said the drama of A Path Through the Skies is captured really well. I think I did really poorly at this particular section of the game - choices made with the best intentions likely causing a worse outcome than I might have otherwise had. It was, though, my favourite passage of play in the whole 9 hour episode.  The horns... oh, the horns. I am a sucker for long, lonely notes and here we get that aplenty.

This soundtrack is stately in pace - which befits companionship for a game played through decisions or turns where you have all the time in the world to make your choices. However I find that slow, marching pace which makes it so brilliantly apt for the in play experience, is distancing me from it at I listen and I have already disabused myself of the notion of buying the soundtrack to part 1 for that reason. It's not a fault in the composition, but in the consumption; I just find that devoid the context of the scenes these tunes were meant to overlay, many of them offer little to the listener. They drip atmosphere and theme, knowing what they are meant to accompany, but those qualities have reduced impact in a "sit down and listen" scenario, at least for me. I might suggest this to a friend of mine though, as he is running an RPG campaign with very, very similar themes to those found in The Banner Saga.

There are a few musical themes recurring across these tracks, little snippets of tune that appear and reappear over different numbers. I like this - it makes the work feel tied together, it helps to build a context for the listener. This is also achieved through the tone, as you would expect, but its the little snatches of melody that emerge from behind the dramatic structures of drums and horns that offer me the most interest.

Some of these tunes are properly tense! Dragons in the Mud is a nerve-wracking piece that proffers doom. I find myself unable to place most of these tracks relative to the imagery from my playthrough, but this one must have been a particularly dramatic moment. A few of the tracks make use of chanting voices which lends them an eeriness to add to the dramatic crucible. This feature is often used as an introduction rather than as a feature running through a track. Essentially it provides a sort of scene framing, but I find that it focuses my ear then drops out and leaves me without the right sense of things... from a purely aural point of view, I would like the voices to persist a little longer, though I can certainly understand why that may not have worked with the original context of the tunes. Just as I type that, Children of the Fallen plays, which does have a vocal throughout. I have no idea what is being sung, but the tones of the voices involved are wonderfully rich.

Broken Shells harks back to other tracks, similar tunes arising in the top end, but overshadowed by environmental type effects in the piece... like nature is ruling man. This soundtrack is not an easy listen by any stretch. There is barely a light moment in any of the pieces, as befits the tragic edge to the tale it supports. The moments where the drums drop away and we are left with tunes that are identifiable melodies though... there is some nice work there. Those melodies are hardly joyful, but they are familiar, touchstones and breathers amidst the inevitable progression of the threat. In truth though, as a standalone work The Banner Saga 2 soundtrack suffers for this lack of lighter moments. It has less intense moments and these are welcome, but the overwhelmingly morose themes make enjoying the craft that went into this work difficult for me.

Two tracks to go. Threads Unweave is long by videogame soundtrack standards at over 6 minutes. It doesn't appear to use this length to give us a more considered and complete piece though as I find it to be made up of distinct shorter segments. I was, perhaps naïvely, expecting this to be a more "theme" like piece, but I don't get that feeling at all and find that it disappoints as a result. The last track delivers on this score though and I think shines a little light on what I wanted this soundtrack to be... music inspired by, and speaking to, the tone of the game, building on the atmosphere and setting. Soundtracking is not that though; had the soundtrack been what I realise now - too late - I was wanting then it almost certainly wouldn't have worked in its primary role.

Bellowhead Live - The Farewell Tour (disc 2) - Bellowhead

Track list:

1. Let Her Run
2. Old Dun Cow
3. Rosemary Lane
4. Moon Kittens
5. The March Past
6. Byker Hill
7. The Wife of Usher’s Well
8. Jack Lintel
9. Black Beetle Pies
10. Greenwood Side
11. Sloe Gin
12. London Town
13. New York Girls
14. Frogs Legs & Dragon’s Teeth

Running time: 63 minutes
Released: 2016

Part 2 of the long goodbye (part 1 here). I am apparently going to be traipsing 80 miles each way to see them one last time this week. Having failed to get tickets for the Oxford show, a friend secured a pair for the "bonus" date inserted in Southampton after the original tour was announced.

Disc 2 opens with Let Her Run, an energetic number with a heavy beat pounding to establish a rhythm. The pace though is enforced by the vibrancy of the vocal. Looking down the track list for this half of the Farewell Tour, there are a few track names I can't place because despite years of following Bellowhead religiously I have hardly ever listened to, or looked at the track lists for, any album since Matachin. As a result tracks like Old Dun Cow, Moon Kittens, Jack Lintel which haven't formed staples of the live shows I have seen in that time are... not strangers but not recognisible by name either. The first of those relies heavily on the brass to create a punchy structure. The tune becomes familiar in places, but whilst I like the bright blaring crescendos and I think this allows Jon Boden to grandstand nicely it is actually not really reflective of the tunes I most love Bellowhead for. When it devolves to folk-orchestra disco music it... well, it works and would be pretty easy to get caught up in live but at this recorded distance, not so much.

Rosemary Lane is Scarborough Fair by another name and another tune, as the band like to remind audiences. Unless that is I am mistaking that introduction for another song. Familiarity is one thing, reliability of memory is another. What saddens me today is that after Wednesday is gone I don't know when I will next see live music. For the last few years Bellowhead have been a much needed outlet there, a rare point of intersection of taste with friends of similar availability, and for an active group coming anywhere near to close to me.

Oh, Moon Kittens is familiar by sound, so it has been part of recent shows; I can't help but think James Bond theme, there are similarities in the primary melody and actually the bass-treble balance and separation is similar to at least some Bond film music, if not the main theme. I should be able to pull out the particular theme song (I suspect I have it on David Arnold's reimaginings album Shaken & Stirred) but... bah. Thus far this set has been of the more bombastic variety, but The March Past takes us into dance tune territory, and immediately rockets to the top of my appreciation list for the listen as a result. I don't recognise this at all, but hey... even as a fan of them in general I can say that many dance tune sets feel very very similar. The appeal lies not so much in the specific tunes, notes or time signatures, but the general energy, positivity and the happy and celebratory genesis of the concepts. 

I think I may have written before about my self consciousness and the inability to let myself go, even in a crowd doing just that. I should by rights detest tune sets for making me feel that acutely, but somehow despite the regret that engineers in me the geniality of the tunes themselves, the vital nature of the playing and everyone else enjoying them manages to leave me with a net positive. 

Byker Hill has a much rockier sound to it, not quite so much that you don't notice the folk roots, present in the lyrics but discernable within the maelstrom of sound from the arrangement too. I have never been a big exponent of this particular song but it far from the weakest track here. This disc includes probably Bellowhead's worst track, a horrid sounding number arising from experimentation with discordant sounds. Actually it surprises me quite a lot, speaking of discordant numbers, that Little Sally Racket does not appear on either disc. The song is so-so, but the sight of a man playing two saxophones at once was a regular highlight of live renditions whilst it remained a popular closer. 

I am not so actively or clearly picking up on a flatness of sound with this set compared with the first disc. I don't know why that is. It could be that I am overall less familiar with the specific tracks, or just in a more forgiving mood. Or the recording could genuinely be better. Who knows. To my surprise Jack Lintel is the type of Bellowhead tune I really like. It is an instrumental with a soaring melody as the dominant feature from Revival. I don't think I have ever seen this live, and as mentioned above I have not listened to the later albums much in other contexts either. I missed a trick there. I should skip the horror that is Black Beetle Pies - the outright worst thing they have done. Cacophony and screech. I think it constitutes an interesting experiment, and I applaud the thinking that got them to go there, i.e. not to be static, but to look for new things to do, but the result is simply not something I have ever enjoyed. Here the recording doesn't do the unpleasantness justice as it seems distant, moderated, softened somehow. I am left to wonder whether that is because the band performed it differently, whether the discomfort the tune can cause in an audience doesn't carry to the microphones or whether post-production (live recording or no) has cleaned it up some. It is by far the most palatable rendition of the song I have heard, but that is not really saying much. 

Greenwood Side leads us into what is an extended lead out. Sloe Gin was a live staple for too long, London Town is a crowd pleaser and the one-two of New York Girls and Frogs Legs & Dragon's Teeth has formed a standard encore for a couple of years. As a result I find myself feeling that I know what is coming and somewhat detached from the listening process, even as Greenwood Side is another track from Revival that I have less exposure to. I think my mood has changed as I feel impatient for the listen to end - an irritating, nagging feeling. I doubt that I will get another listen in for a week after this (and given it was 10 days before the couple I fit it this weekend) as I have a really busy time ahead. I could conceivably have plans every evening this week and all 3 days of the coming long weekend. In practice that means I am dumping out of something; probably the opportunity to play Bloodbowl in person  tomorrow. I used to play in an online league, which I may have mentioned in much earlier days of this project; almost 2 years going now.

Sloe Gin gets its traditional intro - Boden pointing out the repetitive nature of the trombone part in the lead in. Most of the preamble to tunes has been scrubbed from the recordings, there is no banter with the crowd. The difference here is that it happens over the start of the set. Actually I find myself enjoying it despite myself. This set of tunes had got really stale hearing it over and over for years but I find that having not been exposed to it for a while some of what made it a staple and a crowd favourite is restored. 

London Town is very flat on the recording, much of the tune is hard to hear, whilst the recording focuses on Boden's voice. It does capture him instructing the crowd (as if they need it) on how to participate... this is always one of the best numbers in a live show despite its longstanding nature (it comes from debut album Burlesque). I can't hear the crowd singalong at all on this recording which is a real shame. They should be loud and proud. They probably were. I suspect we'll hear them later in the song where it is left to them to sing but... that just means they've been excised in production. Yep. Sigh. There is one really long note in one particular chorus; it's always astounding how it is held, especially towards the end of a set... I can tell I am getting older as each time I saw them I could hold on slightly less amidst the crowd of voices. Yeah - I can sing along, but not deign to move; how does that work? If I knew I might have resolved it by now. New York Girls comes in and it does feel a little remote. I am heartened to hear what sounded like Paul Sartin getting the biggest hand as the attributions were done - though I suspect that was mostly because he was the last of them called out in that sequence. 

The closer is a pair of tunes that have a really complicated dance associated with them. Jump up and down as madly as possible. The list of things that astound me about the band includes the fact that they can, whilst playing, manage to do this more comprehensively than I, or many others in their audience. Despite my getting impatient with this listen in places, I find the hour has gone past really rather fast. Despite feeling remote, not really getting the full sound and generally feeling a bit useless today - it's spring, a little more warmth would be nice - the tunes have flown by. I am sure the same will be true on Wednesday when I am more enveloped, for the last time. I doubt that in most situations I would choose these live recordings over the studio albums - the flatter sounds and odd balancing are off just so - but this will go live in the car for convenience.

Farewell Bellowhead.

Alba - Markus Stockhausen and Florian Weber

Track list:

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

Running time: 61 minutes
Released: 2016

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bellowhead Live - The Farewell Tour (disc 1) - Bellowhead

Track list:

1. Roll Alabama
2. 10,000 Miles Away
3. Lillibulero
4. Betsy Baker
5. If You Will Not Have Me, You May Let Me Go
6. Jordan
7. Haul Away
8. Captain Wedderburn
9. What’s the Life of a Man?
10. Let Union Be
11. Whiskey Is the Life of Man
12. Fine Sally
13. Gosport Nancy
14. Parson’s Farewell
15. Roll the Woodpile Down

Running time: 62 minutes
Released: 2016

I should not really have bought this. I don't really need more versions of these tunes, and have seen all of them played live from time to time. However I figured that buying it would be convenient for the car - stuck as I am in the age of physical media. However I don't have the discs yet - so I have to deconstruct the single large track list from the download. It would have been a 2 hour listen without breaking it up and, much as I love them... finding that kind of time for a listen is simply not going to happen.

I have mentioned Bellowhead in several other posts, but not (quite) reached the first of their studio albums in my alphabetical run through yet. It's literally the next but one at time of composition... and there's a second due before B is done. This, then, jumps the queue - what with the title being something I'd have passed a while back. It also makes the next couple of weeks a bit folk packed.

We start with Roll Alabama, one off Revival. Its possibly one of my favoured songs from their late life as it espouses the themes that I most enjoy in Bellowhead songs. They can get quite raucous at times but I have always had a penchant for the tunes with a more melodic touch, soaring fiddles crafting a comfortable tune space and the other parts of this eleven-piece construction fitting within. As much as I love Bellowhead, I really had to force myself to sit here and listen tonight. I left Sunday on the basis that I had quiet evenings Monday and Wednesday to find the time for two. I missed Monday too, wrong headspace, and tonight my inclination is to curl up and piss away my time rather than apply it. Not sure why, just feeling listless. I am also finding it hard to find much to write here for some reason, actively steering away from discussing the tunes, and generally failing to produce. Maybe this is a fools errand.

Lillibulero is a tune I never really got on with, too much of the song consisting of repeating some iteration of the title loudly. It has some more accessible elements too but it is one of the blander songs for the nonsense chorus. I think I am also impatient for the next tune; Betsy Baker is one of those songs I fell in love with the first time I heard it and it employs Paul Sartin and his oboe is glorious fashion. The song itself is a little blah, but the melody behind the chorus is to die for, a lushly arranged effort with a floating tune and a strong body of sound supporting it. This recording doesn't do it justice though - the levels seem to take away from that oboe part which is where my ear is normally drawn. The whole song sounds very different actually - from both the album version on Broadside and from the umpteen times I have seen it live. It feels a little clipped and flat. The wonderful melody is still there but somehow the sound doesn't blossom in the same way it does if you are in the audience in person. I can't remember how many times I have seen these guys play but for the last few years they have, alas, been the only gigs I have got to - I don't have the right friends or the right tastes to get to see much; I went through a phase of going to things on my own a few years back, but it's not the same as with company, and certainly rules out longer journeys. I am sad about the split of the band - a couple of years after John Spiers and Jon Boden stopped touring as a duo too. It means still fewer gig opportunities, and removes a convenient method (and excuse) for keeping up with an old friend who I have only seen at gigs for a while now.

If You Will Not Have Me, You May Let Me Go is a spiky little jaunt, dance tunes being a large part of the repertoire. It makes me want to hop about like a madman, but I am both too uncoordinated and far too self aware to ever really let myself go there, even in a horde of folks doing the same thing. I always end up feeling quite alone in crowds for this reason. My connection with whatever thing the crowd is there for seems to manifest in a very different way to the norm. I find this quite sad, but even several years of loud and energetic folk gigs haven't stamped that feeling out of me. Jordan goes all the way back to Burlesque, which was my entry point to the band. I liked folk, I liked jazz - they were fusing them supposedly (or rather adding aspects of the latter to the former, with a horn section). I was hooked.

Haul Away is a staple of the live show, three tunes in one. The opening always sends shivers down my spine. Some of the songs they played a lot got old (Sloe Gin really got on my wick by the time they stopped doing it live) but this one is always a crowning moment, with a generous sing-along in the middle of two dance tunes. The first builds tension, released by the vocal, the second leads us out merrily. Here, too, the recording seems flat; I'm not sure if the acoustics were not great on the night, the post production is highlighting the "wrong" bits for my taste or what but there is a detachment, and a monotone to it. I guess I'm so used to being in an audience absorbing this that colours my perceptions, but I don't remember other versions of the tune being so lifeless. And it is not that the performance on the night was lifeless - I can hear them going for it as ever; I think it has to be in the recording, and the specific emphasis that was captured for this release.

Yeah, there's something flat here alright. Even on the "quiet" number of Captain Wedderburn, the tuneful chorus (the only bit of this song I really like) comes across poorly despite the absence of other sounds to compete with. The song also manages to suck out the rhythm I had got into with its more stately pace, and I feel disconnected from my activity once more. However this next tune is interesting. I don't recognise it by sound or by title... I don't think I've seen them play What's the Life of a Man? and clearly I have not listened to Broadside very much, for this comes from there. Of course, Bellowhead were never really about the albums. As much as I enjoyed Burlesque and the follow-up Matachin, the three that followed never saw much play as record does not match up to live. That is true in the case of most bands, but doubly so here. I'm in danger of writing the Broadside listen up here before I get to that, but that album in particular had a contrast between some very nice tunes (Betsy Baker) and really obnoxious discord (Black Beetle Pies) and so didn't warrant much listening in album form.

Let Union Be is a crowd participation number at live shows. I can still use the present tense as there are a handful more dates before they crown their career in Oxford next month... tickets were impossible to grab for that, alas. There was no preamble on this recording and no obvious sound from the audience on the first chorus, again leaving the impression that this recording is a little flat. I do hope the audience weren't tuned out in post production or asked not to sing along on the night... they are clearly audible in applause at the end of the song so I guess it was the latter.

I am finding this all a little surreal, it's like an out of body experience somehow. Vagary of recording or whatever other cause, the sense of detachment I have from the sound, amplified by the lack of depth conveyed on the tunes and my familiarity with most of the numbers in live performance... I feel like I am reliving a memory that I never had. I feel like I am watching my own view on TV. I feel... isolated. The discs arrived today; as well as 2 CDs the package offers a DVD and a booklet of photos of them performing from odd angles. It's quite a nice offering and I am not sorry I picked it up despite my growing ambivalence about the particular realisation of this recording.

In contrast to the middle part of the disc, which was packed with longer tunes, the songs are now flying by. Only a couple left, a tune then the big single. I have always had a soft spot for the dance tunes, because at their best they are all about melody. A strong theme and various movements around that offering support. They swell and subside in really nice and easy to relate to patterns, and you can let your ear latch on to the central strand and follow it to its conclusion. I find them great for stopping my head running away with other thoughts and almost inevitably end up smiling as they crescendo. Disc 1 ends with Roll the Woodpile Down, which again has a lovely melody from Sartin's reed. When those tones fly out over a string base I love Bellowhead more than ever. I missed that this was a huge hit because I don't listen to the radio, but seeing crowds lap it up over the past 4 years its hard to deny the appeal. I doubt that most people are drawn by the particular element that grabs me, but that's fine. I suspect I might be the odd one thinking the best thing in a folk arrangement is woodwind, but there we go. It gives a very definite end. In my experience it is rarely the tune to end on - disc two closes more as I would expect though.

So, a little flat compared to being there in person, but even flat Bellowhead are a treat greater than many. For another month or so until there is only this, and memory, to fall back on.

Atomic - Mogwai

Track list:

1. Ether
2. SCRAM
3. Bitterness Centrifuge
4. U-235
5. Pripyat
6. Weak Force
7. Little Boy
8. Are You a Dancer?
9. Tzar
10. Fat Man

Running time: 48 minutes
Released: 2016

Is this my first 2016 release? I think so. It's not the first album I've picked up this year but its the first that appears here due to alphabet. This is also my first listen to this as I have yet to own it a week. One song popped up in a shuffle but I've not yet paid the purchase any heed.

First listens rarely offer best value, but I'll head into this one, as I don't yet feel like making dinner. Ether starts rather remotely, not what I would expect from Mogwai, a drone and tinny electronics over it. I guess style has to mix up for soundtracks though, and it is plenty accessible. There are echoes of Vangelis in this first piece as the softly melodic theme arrives, the backing evokes the same sculpted spaces the Greek manufactured for scores such as 1492 or Antarctica. As the piece builds there is a little more evidence of the guitar-based instrumentals that Mogwai are known for, but it never departs from the original course enough to indulge those elements.

The film this soundtracks was apparently an Auntie documentary on the atomic age. Passed me by entirely, but explains the title. I think it is safe to say by the midpoint of SCRAM that this is not a work that I would recognise as Mogwai if I didn't know it was them. It fits into a black hole of a genre of thematic instrumental music... pretty clearly soundtrack material without being easily definable as anything else. I find it loopy, with little hooks to fall into. Patterns take over and run my mind as I fall, trance-like, under its spell. To call the themes dark would be to sell short the night. It isn't insufferably dark though, just predominantly. I have to say I think Bitterness Centrifuge would make a great band name; its a pretty awesome track title and I find it conjuring pictures of emotional chemistry labs. Dystopian future, anyone? This track is slower, more menacing in pace, fuzzy, unclear. Deliberately so, and with a number of different strands competing for attention as lighter top end lines arrive to brighten the overall mood of the tune. I could see this growing on me quite a lot.

U-235 may relate to something of the here and now, but the edgy staccato of the tune definitely has me thinking megacorps and rain, persecution and cyberware. This is dark future RPG music and could just as easily be soundtracking an after-dark incursion into a guarded warehouse looking for some secret and dangerous new technology. Very apt. Pripyat is the number that I have heard once before and it starts now, foreboding in tone, slightly Gothic feel to it. This goes from cyberpunk to sci-fi, and then back. The overwhelming feel of oppression ebbs and flows through this track based on what the primary electric "tune" is doing. A murderous hum around just about every sound on this record would drive you to distraction were it not so clear that it is intentional. A nice light evening does not really suit this, but there we are.

Weak Force has more in common with Mogwai's non-soundtrack work immediately. A much clearer sound and electronics following a pattern which suits them. It is lacking in bold guitars though so it probably wouldn't stand out as a Mogwai track in a shuffle. The piece is possibly the "nicest" so far, but it is also the dullest. The dirty air, drones and other artefacts that cloud the previous tunes are noticeable by their absence, and that absence is to the detriment of the track. It leaves fewer rabbit holes for the ear to draw you down, creates fewer images in my head as I listen. I find myself bouncing off the cleaner sound quite hard, it is out of place, not suited. The opening to Little Boy is much more promising. This has a nice clean melody, but a droning sound is back to frame it, and there is another guitar line layered in there. This is richer, lusher, easier to connect to. The melody is one of loneliness, something I have felt today... its been an odd one. The changeable weather - first bright, then wet, and with the wet a darkness that belies the time of day - has directly impacted my mood, as has my inability to get anything done since 11ish. The morning was great; the afternoon not so much, yet I have had "leisure time" and talked to friends during that time. I find myself too complex and it blights certain aspects of my life. Ho hum.

A more subdued track next, more loneliness, a contrast begging me to close my eyes and risk falling asleep at an inopportune time of day. I don't feel like the album jumped here suddenly, and yet neither did I really have any expectation of, nor notice, it turning to these understated slow and emptier tunes. I rather like the effect, but I suspect that whilst the growling, droning tracks might grow on me, these removed numbers will likely never be better than they are on first exposure - less intricacies to learn perhaps? 

Do you ever think you are drinking too much? I have that feeling all the time, and yet this week as many days have passed with me taking none than taking any, and if any just a single beer. I constantly worry I might be prone to alcoholism and yet only ever indulge in moderation. Just throwing that out there, as Tzar winds down and we approach the finale, Fat Man. Lost and lonely piano melody wandering. It is left I think a little too long without significant company. When it gets companion sounds to wrap itself in and co-exist with the piece comes alive in a very... human kind of way. Alas I find that most of it is just a bit too slow, a bit too sparse, to hold my interest.

I think a second, and third, listen are in order to get the best out of this album - the same holds true for most, lets be honest. First time through, give me the dirty, fuzzy, busy sounds over the cleaner and clearer ones, though.