Cheap Tricks E.P. - Thea Gilmore

Track list:

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

Running time: 6 minutes
Released: 2006

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

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

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

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

The Charm And The Strange - Simon Wilcox

Track list:

1. Les Yeux Sur Toi

Running time: 3 minutes
Released: 2007

Odd singleton here. No clue where it came from - or whether this should, in fact, use the English version of the title, Eyes On You, which is also a song on this album according to my search results. This Simon is female - maybe that isn't uncommon in non-anglophone locations.

It is a Wedding Present-esque riff that opens us up. The singing is definitely in French (well, Quebecois I guess) so that settles the version question.

It has a very 2000s indie vibe to it over the pretty stark guitar base. The higher piercing notes that ring out behind the vocal are reminiscent of a whole string of tunes whose names escape me in the moment, lending the track a familiarity despite my long-latent French (I have a reasonable A level from almost 2 decades ago) not being up to the task of following the lyrics.

The song is alright, I guess. That familiarity perhaps offering it more appeal than it merits in and of itself. I see no compelling reason to keep it around though.

Charles Mingus Presents Charles Mingus - Charles Mingus

Track list:

1. Folk Forms, No. 1
2. Original Faubus Fables
3. What Love?
4. All the Things You Could Be by Now If Sigmund Freud's Wife Was Your Mother


Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 1961

Uh, what? Seriously, that title is shocking, and it makes my post title even worse. You present yourself? Good for you.

The other opening comment I have is that I am not sure where this particular album came from. I have had Mingus Ah Um for a long time, and remember explicitly buying that as an entry point to the man's music but I don't recall what I thought of it. I am shocked, then, to find no fewer than 6 Mingus discs in my library. Lets hope I like his work!

We open with a spoken intro, so I guess that's where the Presents comes in. This was performed live at some point, it seems. The first musical sounds are bassy, tense, then more strutting. This opening number builds nicely, then recedes from a peak in a nice organic way. It is a promising start, unlike my progress on the project in 2017. Too many factors - some genuine barriers, others more imagined than real - have conspired to prevent me doing anything here for more weeks than I like to think about. One significant one was that I wasn't in a "jazzy" mood - I am still not, really, but my guilt at not progressing things here finally caught up to me and prodded me into action.  Still, I find myself liking the staccato nature of Mingus' bass here, an attribute that seems to transcribe itself to the playing around him. Each line sounds a little disjointed as a result, but in a most disarming way.

There is a cacophonous joy to things. A barely-coordinated freshness to the sound. It's not all good - there is the almost inevitable drum solo which I could really have done without - but it is nicely crafted. One interesting aspect is the occasionally audible vocalisations from the band, encouraging each other and keeping things on track. This is a really cohesive unit, despite the way the jumps and pauses in the individual efforts lend the more carefree, improvisational vibe. I have to say though that by the time the 13 minutes of the opener are done I am rather glad for the change. The wawing of the trumpet was getting quite wearing by the end.

Another introduction - Wikipedia suggests this is an affectation borne from months of working on these tunes in performance, so I guess I was right earlier - and a smooth sound straight from a noir soundtrack. There is a lovely but sleazy air to the horn on Original Faubus Fables, a very resonant and redolent sound. The bass and drums here feel much more understated, more standard. This is not to denigrate them - there is a well grooved nature to the play, making it silky smooth in places.

Then it all goes a little more challenging.

The horns become sharper of tone, piercingly loud and more than a touch disharmonious. It scratches at my ear drums a little with an insistent and demanding edge to the play. The smooth tune is gone and a more broken piece emerges from the play. The bass and drums are still there, still solid, but the top end and tune loses me entirely. The other stand out characteristic of the second tune is the discussion-like vocals that come and go, most noticeably at start and end of the number. I don't manage to make out the words but it certainly does something to the piece from the tonal point of view.

Though this was recorded in 1960, the sounds to me are so much more associated with the 40s and 50s America as depicted in films of the era (or those harking back). This style of jazz, horn led mood pieces, conjure a very cliched view - almost always of LA, and almost always of the sorts of folks that James Ellroy would write about. What a warped view of the world film and TV are wont to give us.

What Love? is a rambling piece, with noticeable pauses and quiet moments. A prolonged bass solo typifies this. I have lost any sense of narrative from the tune - though I suppose as it runs 15 minutes that really isn't a surprise. This section - in the middle of things by my guess - is a hodgepodge of sounds with little to endear them to the listener. The slow, meandering mood piece can work, but it needs more than this - single voices popping up for unstructured noodling is not an interesting listen. This is more frustrating than anything else - the first couple of tracks had their faults but both also showcased some really tight synergies between the players. Here it is each in turn squeaking, squawking and spluttering through far too long of dead air. The sounds they produce are not even pleasant in places - quite apart from being without much context and disjointed. This pain lasts the best part of 8 minutes (possibly more), going from when I really cottoned on to what was happening to when more sense of cohesion returns to the tune. By that time the 15 minutes are almost up and I have lost the positive impression that I found myself enjoying during track 1.

The final piece is the shortest of the four numbers, except in the titling sense. Wow. All the Things You Could Be by Now If Sigmund Freud's Wife Was Your Mother is a very odd title - it doesn't scan well, the length is unusual, and it lacks particular context to offset the very strange word choice. Why not just say "if you were Sigmund Freud's child"?

In any case, this is a pacier piece, which is nice, though I find myself rather inured to any charms it may have. My lack of jazzy mood has returned with a vengeance. That the piece gets repetitive - a particularly blaring horn wavering between two notes is a key perpetrator here - further alienates me, pushing the composition further from my appreciation with every see-saw between those tones.

I think jazz of a certain age walks a fine line between caricature, genius and cacophony. Here it spills into the latter with a sizable serving of the first and not enough of the piece in the middle. There were moments where the playing came together perfectly, but they were outnumbered by those where it all fell apart, or pulled in a direction that made me wince. This one was not for me.

Chap With the Wings, Five Rounds Rapid - Thumpermonkey Lives!

Track list:

5. Doughboy
6. Don't Wake Me
8. Melissa Leaves the Wrong Kind of Audit Trail
9. My Debt to Scientology

Running time: 12 minutes
Released: 2006

OK - random insert time. I picked up a few freebies from somewhere after noticing Thumpermonkey had covered Tam Lin, just around the time I was really getting into folk music. I suspect a trainwreck as far as my enjoyment goes, but one has to be sure... I do give them props for the album title though, and the art is interesting, stylistic and bold yet indistinct.

Doughboy is a rap tune, with an American accent. This is not what I was expecting at all. I sit here lost for words... is there some kind of mix up? The tune itself is pretty staid, a decent loop that supports the vocal well enough but its all a little bland. I am just suffering expectation dissonance rather than stunned by brilliance or awfulness. Then I look them up on Bandcamp, find this album and the samples. Track names match; times don't. Play one to check. Yup, something gone wrong here. The freebie songs I grabbed from wherever are decidedly not this album, so I delete them, and proceed to listen to what I can through Bandcamp - which seems happy to stream entire tunes.

Don't Wake me evokes Sweet Billy Pilgrim in places, which to be fair is much more what I was expecting to find. I get track 7, Memory Fat as a "bonus" for the change of approach. Call it a stand in for Doughboy, which I don't go back for. This is more experimental, noisy, growling and faux metal. I don't care for it.

I am left wondering if the error was on my side, did I mislabel something I downloaded, or was the file not what it claimed to be? I guess I'll never know. Anyhow - this will take more than 12 minutes now, as Melissa is almost 7 alone. It's a prog-y rock epic, then. There are some nice points in the guitar work, it reminds me some of And None Of Them Knew They Were Robots, only without the tightness and purpose or visceral appeal to back up an unexpectedly tuneful centre. (Grr. I keep having my browser suggest spellings for perfectly good English; I have never found a way to stop that happening reliably and constantly for non-US English). I have tuned out of Melissa - which whilst it has an amusing title (I wonder is it a euphemism?) has little else to recommend it. In places it sounds like they've recorded a lawnmower (or other small petrol) engine as a component.

The final step on this voyage of oddity is... a lonely piano melody. What? It's actually a rather nice one - not top tier composition or anything, but the way it is recorded evokes a piano alone in an empty auditorium, shadows cloaking around it. It goes a little spikey and high-pitch for my tastes after that, ruining the effect. The contrast between this tune and the prior one was an interesting one, but frankly that is all I have to note.

So, a cock-up of a post, an oddity of an album and a few minutes of my life I won't get back. A few MB cleared up, but an interesting interlude to an otherwise dull day.

Central Reservation - Beth Orton

Track list:

1. Stolen Car
2. Sweetest Decline
3. Couldn't Cause Me Harm
4. So Much More
5. Pass In Time
6. Central Reservation
7. Stars All Seem to Weep
8. Love Like Laughter
9. Blood Red River
10. Devil Song
11. Feel To Believe
12. Central Reservation (The Then Again Version)

Running time: 58 minutes
Released: 1999

I used to have a giant poster of this album cover - a freebie from a gig attended in Bristol whilst a student. I used to really, really like Beth Orton's music - hence being at the gig in the first place - but I found that affinity dwindling with each album after this one, and looking back before starting this playing, I think I probably wouldn't miss it if I were to cut all albums of hers except Trailer Park (which I definitely would still miss) from my collection. That said, I am sure there are tracks in here, and on her later works, that are worth my time, so lets spend some time with her now.

I remember the primary acoustic melody of Stolen Car, but not the more haunting elements of the intro and the lonely electric guitar. As I hear it now it all floods back, and I find I still really like the song. Form filling has been put off again today; painting instead. Tomorrow is the last day of the holiday, and I now have a fair chuck of things stacked up to do... how much like everyday life. Orton sings "don't you wish you knew better by now..." - yes, yes I do. I work better with deadlines though...

I have been in a strange mood today, spontaneously dancing to the shuffle earlier whilst doing other things - very unlike me. I am now into my second glass of white (my sop to New Year yesterday, left over to this evening) and forcing myself into the mindset for a post. The guitars on Stolen Car really do sound mournful, wistful, longing. I approve, as the acoustic line cycles a pleasant hook that contrasts nicely. There is a very distinct change of tone with the next track which is far more laid back. You wouldn't know from the playing alone, but I am reminded that the pianist on Sweetest Decline is Dr John. This is a world away from his New Orleans blues, a mellow jaunt. It sounds and feels a little overdone somehow - like that mellowness is being striven for slightly too hard rather than coming naturally. I think this sense comes from overproduction and slightly too much going on in the arrangement. Bongos, strings, piano almost competing. It would be better without the unnecessary percussion I think, but it could also happily lose the strings and pare down to Orton's slightly unusual voice and the melodic piano.

Snacking on flapjacks at this time of the evening probably isn't wise; they don't go that well with the wine for a start.

There are some nice elements here, but since Stolen Car finished it has never been more than "nice" - which is to damn with faint praise. I wonder if, perhaps, in another mood I would more easily overlook things that currently are slapping me around the face. The depth of production is a mile away from the last thing I listened too with its multiple layers and rich sounds and I find myself pining for the simple and genuine sounds of James Yorkston's record. Whilst Beth Orton has worked with some electronic music folks over the years, I am moved to suggest her solo material benefits most from a more minimalist approach. She has an interesting voice, one with an edge to it and a hint of dis-tunefulness and real emotion, pairing that with a simple guitar melody offers the chance to show it off more. 

I start suddenly; I am feeling cold though the room is at temperature (I've upped the thermostat now though) and it has not been that cold outside over the new year. Maybe there is a draught. I need to fashion an early night tonight and... oh carp; just remembered what I have forgotten to do today. Time for a brief interlude.

Fault corrected I resume with Pass in Time - which runs 7 minutes in length. This album is made up of longer than average tunes, there's only one below 4 minutes and the average is almost five. I think that is counting against it a little in this listen. I am not convinced these songs need to be drawn out as much as they are - and it is the first half that are longer. Ooh! Hey, that is the late lamented Terry Callier on backing, with his utterly brilliant and soulful voice. He can lift this track just by humming at the right points. That I love how he and Orton synergise (remember Best Bit) can't disguise that it is stretched past the necessary though. After the song finally closes, we hit the title track, and this does give Orton's voice the room to be the star. Soft programming and sparse bass create a crucible for a rather fragile-sounding song and I find myself smiling, enjoying it again. It suffers a bit more from the over-tinkering with arrangements as it progresses but it never gets too busy to detract from the central song.

I remember being young and angry and stupid and penning a diatribe to a radio station for playing some horrid electro-mix of this song instead of the album version once. The mix concerned was tripe, stripped out all the space that is what makes this work. Fragility needs the right support, and here the vocal really needs that openness. I am still angry and stupid, but far less young these days; I don't write to radio stations because I don't listen to them (except for sports) and I refuse to engage with Twitter or Facebook which seem to be the only modes of feedback these days. Ugh - try making a really cogent argument in 140 characters. That said, this long form pretty much debunks my ability to make cogent arguments in any medium. Oh well. I have been enjoying some good criticism of late - catching up on Errant Signal, which dissects videogames nicely in ways that I find fascinating. YouTube is becoming a more regular form of entertainment than TV for me now, even though I am pretty set in my ways and not one to over-subscribe or jump on bandwagons.

Back to the music. A series of tracks that flood back into my memory as they play have come and largely gone. I like the familiarity, but I am not over-sold on the specifics. I don't find any of them hard to listen to, or actively distasteful, but equally I do not find myself moved to comment on anything about the tunes either. I close my eyes and try to immerse myself in Blood Red River to form a more communicable opinion but it sort of slides off around me. I don't know if that says more about me or the music. I am slightly more taken with the opening of Devil Song where primacy is given to a simple voice/guitar combination. The form of the guitar work here appeals to me far more than the song itself. I like the crucible it creates, the timbre and the framing.

Feel to Believe is a pleasant surprise. I recognise it once it starts, but the name meant nothing. It has a more upbeat tone to it and that feels a little overdue somehow. There is a touch of awkwardness between one of the choruses and the next verse - the tune loses its structure and tempo and falls into limbo a bit before pulling it around by returning to the tone that was set at the start. Orton's voice sounds strained and emotional here - it adds an undercurrent to the piece that I appreciate even as it sounds less tuneful than on many of the other tracks.  I think I have a thing for unorthodox voices.

We end with a mix of Central Reservation which starts to fill in the spaces around the vocal more - electric pacing elements are introduced as percussion, the beat is rather annoying and distracting, but the song actually works with the higher pace. I prefer the more sparse version earlier on the disc by far, but the verses and choruses do actually fit well enough in the busier environment created for them here. I actually find myself more attracted to the words in this context, but the voice in the previous one. Odd dichotomy that. The disc ends horribly with a fade out rather than a proper ending, leaving me to consider the whole. There is no doubt that for me it doesn't stand up to the love I once had for it, that in places it is over-produced, over-long or otherwise disappointing. But there is also magic buried in here - a couple of complete tracks, or just moments or movements within others. I could axe it and not miss much, but I really wouldn't mind hearing just about any of these tunes again.

Cellardyke Recording and Wassailing Society - James Yorkston

Track list:

1. Fellow Man
2. The Blues You Sang
3. Sweet Sweet
4. Guy Fawkes' Signature
5. Thinking About Kat
6. Feathers Are Falling
7. Broken Wave (a blues for Doogie)
8. Red Fox
9. King of the Moles
10. Great Ghosts
11. Sleep On
12. Embers
13. Honey On Thigh
14. As Grey and as White
15. The Very Very Best
16. You & Your Sister

Running time: 61 minutes
Released: 2014

I don't recall getting on with this album, which was a shame. It was the last JY record I picked up - not because I decided I was done with him, but because I somehow missed the record released earlier this year. That rectified, Everything Sacred ordered (and since arrived) its way, I can get on with looking back at this one and see if I can put my finger on why I bounced off it.

It being New Year's Eve there is still a little festive spirit around, and wassailing is appropriate for that. Onward.

Fellow Man is a gentle, noodley opening with very light touch on the guitar, a chorus of other instruments slowly building, but the main focus saved for the vocal, making it a tale as much as a song - Yorkston's laid back and conversational delivery (harmonising with a more melodic female voice in many places) carrying us through. I have been off work since the 22nd, but I have had hardly a moment to get to these listens. It seems there is always something to do this "holiday". Right now I am procrastinating over form filling, some work obligations to clear before I actually return to work. I mention that because I need to banish the thought and free myself to concentrate on the music. Hopefully articulating the thought will exorcise the nagging pull/push it has had over my past 3 days.

Gone are the days of The Athletes and the pacier numbers that Yorkston penned for that ensemble of his. This feels much more like a collective, James at the head but not standing out for any other reason than to publicise. I say that because the whole thing has a low key feel to it - like a group of friends happening to get together and play tunes whilst first and foremost enjoying each others' company. There is no pretense, no bombast, and no ego - just soft, gentle melodies and complementary elements. I have really enjoyed the first pair of tracks - they offer up the serenity and peace I feel that I need but haven't had over the festive season. That offering continues into Sweet Sweet, too.

The primary contributing factor seems to be the sparsity and softness of the arrangements. There are quite a lot of separate elements in play but they are all quiet and understated. The way these coalesce into a whole is where the magic happens - the ear picking out one of other of the contributing parts to follow (keys, bass, voice, guitar and percussion at least; I think I am missing some). There is a joyous simplicity to it. Yorkston is actually speaking now, telling a story in Guy Fawkes' Signature. I think I hear Johnny Lynch (aka The Pictish Trail) on the backing chorus, and a quick Google confirms it. The pair of them go way back, after all; apparently KT Tunstall also shows up too; not a huge surprise given past connections, but I doubt I would pick her voice out (indeed, it appears she was on Fellow Man, so I missed it).

I think I know why I didn't fall in love with this album initially - it's a little too low key, a little too noodley (I guess I should define that better but think sitting down alone with a guitar and just picking for pleasure without purpose) and a little too understated to make a first time impression or stand up against more energetic or impactful past favourites. However, having carved out the time to give over to it, I find it absolutely charming, totally relaxing and, thus far, very consistent in quality. The volume has picked up a bit on Feathers are Falling, there is more of a sense that this is actually a purposeful piece, a rounder sound, clear choruses, etc. I am not sure that it is better for it though, for all my "too" statements above I am thoroughly charmed by the fragile but natural approach.

Broken Wave is a tribute to Doogie Paul, the double-bassist from The Athletes. Its a farewell to a close friend who died young. It's quite a difficult tune to listen to because that emotion is quite close to the surface. I can't say I like the song much, but then I don't need to.

The sombre interlude lasts just that one track - I suspect it will feel like an outlier for the whole disc. We pick up with Red Fox which follows Feathers are Falling in terms of sounding more purposeful and rounded. I can't really follow the thread of the lyrics though, the chorus has various creatures lying inside each other which is an odd image to hear in song. I rather liked the sound of the track though. The animal theme (which, to be fair, Yorkston has used before) continues with a song about moles - or at least superficially so; I don't catch the deeper meanings as I found myself zoning out a bit for the first time on this listen.

I often find that I write a lot in the first half of a disc and not nearly as much in the second, and I can feel a similar situation developing here. Short of literally doing a track-by-track (and I have no desire to go that route; I forcibly stop myself many times per post, and yet swathes of posts do feel a bit like that all the same) ideas tend to run dry unless there is something remarkable to comment upon. The album seems to be veering away from the super-laid-back tunes of the opening minutes as the last few have all been more coherent tunes with bigger sounds. There is still nothing brash or harsh, but things have fleshed out significantly, puffed up and now the sounds fill the space rather than drifting in lightly as if on the breeze. I preferred the earlier effect if I am honest.

Having just said that...

The pace picks up for Sleep On. This is notable because the song is short as well as quicker - it hits as a change up and suddenly concludes as a breezy interval. I would probably have enjoyed the song more if I had not been typing as it went; I hear enough to realise that it contains a lot of repetition but still, the palette cleanser was very welcome, forming a nice break between the more obvious fuller songs and a return to the subtler sounds on Embers. Some really nice vocal harmonies sneak in there almost under the radar. I am certainly glad for the return to the low key numbers - they are a great fit for my current mood, and a useful aid in needing to find some mental relaxation and some zen. I find myself tuning out, forcibly dragging myself back to write this sentence, but wanting to give in, and go with Yorkston's flow.

The penultimate song on the disc is... interesting. It sounds like a post divorce or break up song - wishing the ex well with what sounds like genuine intent, but reserving the right to dislike the new partner. I don't know if that reflects a personal occurrence for the writer or not, but it sounds a little close to the bone. The final track follows this up with a sense of longing, which then ends very abruptly with a drop to silence. It feels like a strange way to close out the record.

My overall impression though is very good, and it leaves me feeling as though I never gave the album a chance to grow on me. Which is probably true; I suspect I played a couple of songs on shuffle as it ripped, then left it to the mercy of the RNG in the greater wilderness of my library. I am glad I made the time for this today. Happy New Year to all.

Black Sails OST - Bear McCreary

Track list:

1. Theme From Black Sails
2. Nassau Shores
3. L'Urca de Lima
4. The Banner of Captain Flint
5. Captain Kidd
6. On the Beach
7. Wondrous Love
8. The Wrecks
9. Silver Overboard
10. A Nation of Thieves
11. All Saints
12. Black Sails Theme and Variations
13. Streets of Nassau
14. The Andromache
15. Clamanda
16. Vane's Visions
17. Funeral at Sea
18. The Parson's Farewell
19. Pieces of Eight
20. Black Sails Main Title
21. The Golden Vanity

Running time: 78 minutes
Released: 2014

An impulse purchase. I have been watching Black Sails on Amazon Prime recently and really liking it. I also happen to really like the main theme of the show, I find the haunting tinge and the stridency a neat combination. Couple to that recognising The Parson's Farewell in the background scenes of season 1 (being a huge Bellowhead fan) and I think I will get on with this. It's good soundtrack fodder for gaming, too.

We launch straight into those bombastic main titles, which last a full 3 minutes and more. I have rarely skipped the titles because I love this piece so much. It is full of colour, threat and promise and that slightly off-sound to some of the major notes just adds the character of discomfort. Very apt. In here there is a clause that doesn't play on the episodes, so huh. Long middle section - with more recognizable electric guitars - gets chopped for TV. Probably for the best as this is actually quite weak and detracts from the end which works on screen but less so on record. Nassau Shores are built on fiddles that strike close to my heart. There is a jauntiness to it too - a good switch from the powerful opening.

This post has been a long time coming, but the run up to Christmas and general busy times have cut short my desire and availability to sit down for an hour plus for these posts. Right now I am waiting for some filler to dry, needing to go back to it in about 90 minutes or so, and this sort of long disc fills a natural gap. I don't want to divert too much into talking about the show here, but to frame the context of the music - and as can surely be guessed from the title - it's a pirate adventure of sorts. Captain Flint, pre-Treasure Island. Historical fiction. It is surprisingly good, rough edges in places, and plenty of dastardly action. The main theme is a perfect fit. It has its quieter, moments too, hopeful moments, so this is not one big long train of draining, endlessly taut pieces. L'Urca de Lima is an interlude of peace before the thumping and threatening Banner of Captain Flint strikes up.

I find myself surprised that the majority of these pieces are radio song lengths. There are a couple of monstrously long tunes later on the disc, but most are not far removed from popular music in duration. A smattering of tunes under 2 minutes reinforces that this is a soundtrack, but it is quite far removed from the machine gun of short tracks that can come with soundtrack discs (The Banner Saga, for instance). Captain Kidd sounds out of time; the twangy snap and guitars here place it about 100 years too late for the on-screed period by my reckoning (though as a recent game of Timeline showed, my knowledge of history is far from great). The tune recovers a bit from that dissonance and I rather like its fiddle and percussion structure by the end of the track.

It is no surprise to hear the ghost of the main theme haunting some of the other tunes. On the Beach is the first obvious example of this (read: that I noticed). I like this sort of technique. Like callbacks to earlier jokes in a comedy gig (Eddie Izzard was always good at this), it rewards the listener for paying attention and remembering what came before. The spectre of the title music only lasts a short while, and the tune is left to develop its own identity but it does so informed by a specific viewpoint. When it leaves it it replaced with a lonely fiddle tune, which is a little too stark and shrill for me to begin with, but which I warm up to as a greater depth of sound assembles around the leading part.

I am not disappointed with the general tension of the work, though absent the visual counterpoint I do find myself thinking more the Old West than pirates in the Caribbean which reinforces the timeline discrepancy that I first noticed a few tunes back. That is a minor quibble though, really as the period accuracy is of secondary importance to the ability of the tunes to evoke a sense of danger and threat. I feel they do this pretty well, so thus far I am well satisfied with picking this up. Nation of Thieves is perhaps surprisingly a breaker for the tension. This carries a lighter sound to it, provided by a wind-instrument (I can't tell what... flute maybe?) based theme. Not what I would expect from the title, but a good palette refresher. It isn't devoid of darkness, but it is removed from it in a way that the prior tracks were not.

All Saints is a dance tune. Guitar and fiddle, then pipes. It's cheery until the squeezebox brings a nautical edge to the party and reinforces the underlying dangers of a place built on piracy when it is audible. I find the tune wanders a line between celebration and reminding us of the situation, and id case we were in any doubt we then hit variations on the main theme full on. This theme is so darn good though. I don't usually like to do this, but here it is on YouTube for you. Enjoy. These variations explore the darker side of the theme, increasing the dangerous tones, emphasizing the bottom end and playing with the rhythm, ominous thumping percussion. Love it.

A couple more tunes drift by, veering from the olde-timey folky sound that supports the onshore scenes and the more nautical and darker music to support the seas. Funeral at Sea is the first of the two long pieces. As you might expect from the name it is tinged with sadness and regret. There are a couple of times in the series (thus far; I am nearing the end of season 2) that show funerals. They are poignant and humanising moments and this tune has a lot of space to breathe, supporting that notion. I find myself switching off a bit though as mammoth tracks like this rarely contain enough to hold attention for their full length. Attention wanders then snaps back with a change of tone or movement. Overall it seems like a good effort, although largely at odds with the tone of the rest of the disc, but I fear my wandering thoughts - turning towards the sales - caused me to miss too much.

The rendition of the Parson's Farewell is a little tinny and twangy for my liking, but then I am royally spoiled on this tune getting a full big band treatment. This version picks up when the squeezebox rounds out the sound more. This hides the worst of the tinniness behind the starker sound of the accordion, and that neutering is welcome. We do get a bit more of a large sound as the piece progresses, along with hints of the main theme to the show, which is a nice counterpoint and meld, though it then brings in electrics and utterly ruins the sense of time and place, murdering the utility of the track. Funnily enough, I don't remember the screaming guitar from the background music on the show. It is sandwiched between the long tracks, and I actually miss the transition to Pieces of Eight because of the hints of the main theme that were added to the parson's parting.

I think I need to view these 10+ minute epics as experiences rather than tracks to listen to - I just find it impossible to sustain an avid attention for that length. This one rumbles around. It clearly has distinct movements. From echoing the theme, to a sort of calm interlude, to thumping, trembling expectation, though that latter lasts too long. The tension fakes you out a bit, as the tune seems to become more about anticipation than action or resolution. It's a pleasant set of sounds, but I can't help but feel it would make a better piece if it moved on to the action phase faster or sooner. Of course, it was composed to suit a specific purpose, but I find it hard to imagine that the 10+ minute piece was used in full on the show.

Into the closing stages of the piece and it still seems more about tension than release. A wasted opportunity. There is a crescendo... but after it soothing sounds, not rushing hectic ones. The whole epic feels like a tease - an enjoyable one with pleasant sounds, but a tease nonetheless. I feel a bit let down.

We get the theme again - this time the cut from the show titles and then a final number to close us out. This is an oddly sung song with accordion backing. It's not a great closer, it's not a great track. I don't like the voice - its more growl than singing voice, and the jaunt of the piece is irritating. I think I will ditch that, but the rest is pretty much what I would have expected.

Casual Sub (Burning Spear) - ETA

Track list:

1. 45 or 33? Radio Edit
2. Stretch 'n' Vern's Rock 'n' Roll mix
3. Hixxy's HardCore mix
4. Danmass Remix
5. Stretch 'n' Vern's Skillectrix Beats mix
6. 33 or 45? mix
7. 80's Filofax mix

Running time: 34 minutes
Released: 1997

This was a single I really liked in my teens. I've heard it just a couple of times in the 2 decades since and the tune has still had a kind of nostalgic, childish appeal. I'm not sure I will feel the same after listening to seven different takes on it back to back over 34 minutes though!

We start with the radio edit - my esposure to this tune way back when (I was never into clubs as a youth, or indeed since). A breathy, panpipe-ish lead theme over a beat forms the basis of the track. I don't recall the prominence of the beats, but that staccato top end and the more electronic pattern that beckons us into the body of the track stuck with me. I don't find anything to enjoy here now though - its very flat, though it is catchy, the sort of tune that embeds itself in your mind very easily... and I am going to be reinforcing that embedding a lot. Oh dear!

The second mix claims "Rock 'n' Roll" in the title but that means nothing. There is nowt rocky about this. It goes more electronic, reminiscent of some of the beat patterns behind Faithless tunes, but without any of the other layers that group use to build interest. This will be a long half hour.

I should be doing other things. Christmas shopping for instance. I hate this time of year because Christmas feels so far off then is suddenly on you with much less time than there feels like there should be to prepare given I refuse to even contemplate the holiday before December begins. I don't mind the giving, but the organisation and the buying are a drain on my already fragile resources of time, patience and energy. In the background the third rendition has begun. This drops any sense of the main theme for the first minute, the beat is snappier and the only accompaniment is a wawing sort of hum. Actually it is more absorbing than the primary take in a strange sort of way and when the "tune" breaks out it serves more to distract from the (slightly) interesting changes than anything else. I could stop the listen right now, delete the lot and lose nothing but my sense of fulfillment fromdoing a thorough job on this post. Damn my principles.

This is the first of the mixes to really stretch the piece out too, meaning it overstays its welcome over and above being the third version of the same thing in succession. If I cast my mind backwards 20 years, I think it was the ridiculous tempo of the 33 or 45 mix that I found amusing and most enjoyable. Now I anticipate finding it childish. I don't hear this and think "what was I thinking" though. I was young, tastes shift, and I made some far worse purchases than this gimmicky single. Danmass is also overlong - doubling the length of the tune and then some! - and also abandons the main theme for a lengthy intro (3 mins and counting). It is the least interesting of the 4 so far.

The week just gone was busy; London for 3 days, the office for 2, 3 evenings out with work colleagues, including leading a bunch of Russian software developers on a pub crawl around spots that are nostalgic for me. I barely feel human today and actually, the pounding beats on these remixes really are not helping that. What I am hearing now sounds like the sort of flavourless bland background music that might pump out in arcades, or as a generic and unidentifiable beat to support the inevitable scene in cop/spy movies where the protagonists have to force their way across a dance floor heaving with sweaty kids in pursuit of their quarry. Charmless and soulless for my tastes, and still three mixes to go.

We return to sounds more like the radio version next, very, very like it. Maybe slowed a touch and the percussion backed off in amplitude. Apart from the additional run time and a different name it could be a repeat, but I haven't mucked up the player settings this time.

I find that the main theme and its perky intro sound better in my head than when actually entering through my ears. Even as I sit here listening to, and not enjoying, the actual tune, I can sort of hear my mental recollection of it at the same time, only my version has more life and a cheeky smile - more fun. Nostalgia is better left as such in many ways - though I am happy to report many Oxford pubs are still awesome. There is the caffeine-overdosed theme sped past intelligible. This should be a comedy skit backing or something. The ridiculous pace would make it work for some sped-up footage or other, whilst the beepy nature of the sounds, and the panpipes definitely have a comic air.I have broken the back of this now. Focus on the line.

I don't think I have anything else to add about the final mix; about the tune in general all I have to say is: I never want to hear it again. Thankfully I doubt I will need to.

Castaways and Cutouts - The Decemberists

Track list:

1. Leslie Anne Levine
2. Here I Dreamt I Was an Architect
3. July, July!
4. A Cautionary Song
5. Odalisque
6. Cocoon
7. Grace Cathedral Hill
8. The Legionnaire’s Lament
9. Clementine
10. California One / Youth and Beauty Brigade

Running time: 49 minutes
Released: 2002

I got into The Decemberists with The Crane Wife. I remember really liking them at first but not really gelling with the direction they went later on - though I bought a couple more later discs before I stopped paying attention. Most of the Decemberists tunes that I can call to mind are from Crane Wife or Picaresque and even seeing them here, many of these titles inspire no memory at all. Rather than coming forward, this goes back to the start. As such, I hope this will be like rediscovering an old favourite.

We are straight into strident chords and a comfortable rolling pace, creating a solid base for a melody that is dominated by Colin Meloy's voice. The top end is really only there when the singing isn't, it counterpoints the distinctive accented style and long notes. Oh, it is there under the voices too, but subdued by them. I rather like this as an opening; it tells you instantly what the band are about - both musically and lyrically; it is a ghost story, whether invented or spun from traditional tales I know not.

There is a more lyrical quality to the next track (actually the transition was pretty seamless and I almost missed it). Here the music is more than just a support for the sung part. It isn't flashy, but there is more melody there; it sounds more "modern" - this is more clearly a pop song with tinges of the folk / Americana / country influences than a folk song, whereas Leslie Anne Levine had more of a rootsy feel to it. Suddenly there is another change; it feels as though this album sets off at a pace. Subconsciously I think I was expecting long drawn out tunes but the longest in the first half of the album is only a touch over 5 minutes. The second half is a little longer, but its really only two tracks that go beyond a standard pop-y, radio-friendly length.

Meloy's voice is not exactly musical, but it makes up for that with disctinctiveness. I can't quite bring to mind an appropriate adjective for it... there is I guess a certain whine to it, but I wouldn't call it whiny. It just has an uncomfortable stretch to it rather than a rounded sound. This actually works really well with some of the arrangements - meshing together to create an evocative sound; its perfectly suited for slow numbers like A Cautionary Song, for instance, where there is an edge to the track as a whole. I don't know if I have a thing for slightly odd voices, but I certainly have a few of them scattered through my collection.

Where there are keys here, they are an organ of some kind. This provides a shrill touch in Odalisque, for instance. In some ways the organ sounds out of place with the rest of the constructed sound - electric organs are certainly non-canonical for folk - but it offers a needed contrast. There is a lot of murkiness in this tune and the organ cuts through the swirling low guitars brilliantly. The next number drops all of that busy low sound altogether. In its place we have a low-tempo, largely piano driven melody with very clear and stark percussion. Cocoon does swell and crescendo in places, and when it does it has some real character, but I find the basic form of this track lacking in interest. The melody is over simple, and the vocal feels isolated, ungrounded and illustrates the weaknesses in the singing rather than adding interest to a more textured sound. It isn't a bad song by any stretch, just a little plodding and drawn out to really engage me.

There is perhaps more switching of tone than I was expecting on the disc. I guess I had mentally pigeonholed The Decemberists in a certain style. Of course as I think about it this seems ridiculous - there is plenty of variety on the albums that I can easily bring to mind. I suspect it might be a reflection of my lack of engagement with the direction they went later and of seeing them as a band that sings stories. I think the latter is still true, and a big part of the appeal, but there is no reason why stories need to be told in the same style.

I like the lyrical approach on The Legionnaire's Lament. The rhyming pattern and the structure of the lines has a gentle but fundamental appeal. Coupled with the way the words are delivered and the militarily precise percussion it sets the tune up brilliantly. It sounds sparse in arrangement but it has an incessant quality to it, a persistence. It isn't fast, but feels relentless, the snap of the snare carrying the tune along, right up to the denouement, when the top end are left to wind us out. This then provides a rather jarring transition as Clementine is so slow and low it almost feels like we have a vacuum. The drop in volume and tempo is enervating and ultimately leaves me with little interest in the song. This is a shame, because actually the gentleness of the track is rally well done, long notes that fashion a comfortable crucible for the words; it suffers for too much contrast with what came before. Too much contrast; that's not like me.

There is a comfort in California One, too. It has a stately pace, but a warm bassy thrum. Unfortunately I find that this only sustains it so far. That stately pace becomes a yoke, dragging it down once it becomes clear that there isn't going to be a lot more to the first half of this track.  My interest perks up again as we reach the hand-off from California One to Youth and Beauty Brigade. Tension appears, a taught segment with a low whisper, then a bit more pace. I find, though, that it doesn't last. The sounds don't quite gel for me, the organ too harsh, the crashing cymbals obscuring and dominating when they're hit. It leaves me feeling less positive about the album as a whole... funny how that can work; the final strains leaving a stain over the experience that preceded them. For all that, I enjoyed this listen. The raw ingredients that made up my first exposure to The Decemberists are all here, less polished than on The Crane Wife, but clearly in place. It makes me wonder if when I actually listen to them (eventually) I will increase my appreciation of the later albums, or re-enforce the impressions I carry around in my head.

The Casket Letters - Monkey Swallows the Universe

Track list:

1. Statutory Rights
2. Bloodline
3. Science
4. Matterhoney
5. Gravestones
6. Little Polveir
7. Elizabeth & Mary
8. Ballad of the Breakneck Bride
9. Paper, Scissors, Stone
10. When the Work Is Done

Running time: 34 minutes
Released: 2007

When I listened to The Bright Carvings whilst in the US for work earlier in the year I said I hoped I would make it to this one this year. I have, just later than I might have expected. I have fond memories of this album... though I think it is probably more accurate to say that I really like Bloodline. If I am lucky there might be some interest in the tracks around it.

We open with a whimsical little number, a nice lyrical quality to the singing and a simple but pleasant tune to back it up. The vocal is the driver here, low in volume and sounding hopeful, the longer notes are lovely. Then we launch into the catchy opening of Bloodline, with a tappable tune that has stuck in my head for the past decade. I occasionally come back to this one now and again. It has a nice pace, a catchy hook, and a really nice vocal. With more mature ears it sounds very youthful and a little vapid but the catchiness is still there and it inveigled its way in to my consciousness long ago enough now that it is well established. I can hear that its a little light in places - further arrangement of the strings would have added something I think - but the crescendo to the chorus is a heartstring-tugger, and the singing is delightful. It ends rather abruptly, and there is nothing of similar interest to follow, alas.

Science ditches the tempo, but gains a little more life after it reaches the chorus. This takes indiepop and dials it up to tweelve. I do like the cello providing the bassline though, and the song grows into itself a little as it goes. I knew very well what I was getting into on this listen.

One of the things I find about indiepop is that it is incredibly mood dependent. If you're in a mood to not take things too seriously it will sound better. There are (generally) too many holes to really delve into and pick apart if you start looking for flaws. Thankfully I'm content enough to just rol with it tonight. This album runs a gamut of different tempos and tones, but most are slowish, and the best sounds are when our singer is soft and central. Nat Johnson's voice suits a light touch song - just a little stringy noodling - very well. Bloodline doesn't really make the most of her voice, but brings much more interest in catchiness to make up for this and elevate the track as a whole. Some of the other tracks though, the only interest at all is in that voice.

Oh, I'd forgotten just how charmingly disarming Little Polveir can be. The arrangement is twee out the wazoo, but at the same time it is so approachable and it supports Johnson's voice well. I'm less keen on the wordless section, but it it just a small part of a whole that should fall right down, but somehow stays afloat. I had completely forgotten the tone-change that follows - much darker sounds, electrified and a more OTT "look at me" vocal. The contrast with what has gone before is interesting, but I actually find that the threatening rumble in the guitars doesn't work that well here. I think that is because the pace is actually quite slow, and there isn't much intricacy to the growl.

To exemplify the tonal shifting around, the next number is a lyrically dark ditty with a twangy tune that stretches the tweeness and insouciance too far. The male/female duet approach doesn't work that well either, as the male voice just isn't a good one.

I am struggling to think this was only released in 2007; it feels older than that. You can tell they were pretty young, too. Listening now, in my mid 30s, feels oddly voyeuristic in some ways as a result. My laissez-faire attitude to the disc has suddenly evaporated. I'm not feeling the charm anymore. The record is over. I consider wielding the knife but stay my hand out of nostalgia.