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PREVIOUS PLAYLISTS:
MARCH - 2007
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PLAYLIST (MAY 2005) The Golden Morning Breaks - Colleen (Leaf)
Though breezier in tone than her ingenious debut, "Everyone
Alive Wants Answers," Cecile Schott's newest fare still
sounds as if it were recorded in the isolation of a fairytale castle
turret, well away from the fickle whims of fashion or influence.
Indeed, this fantasia appears spun, woven, as opposed to written
and recorded. Schott has a wonderful way with aerosphere. Her instruments
sound as if they were alive, breathing, uncluttered by the temptation
of studio gadgetry. As with her debut, this record was patiently,
lovingly, organically ushered to tape at home. Harps are tickled,
glockenspiels pitter, toy pianos patter, warm reedy organs phase
in and out of soundscapes that could perfectly accompany John Harrold's
magical Rupert Bear annuals. 'If we lie quietly, we're
bound, to hear the least suspicious sound' says Rupert to
Bill Badger.
Luckily, I heard Arcade Fire before the press hyperbole started to consume them like some gluttonous triffid and thus, my feelings about them were pure for a couple of weeks. This is a great album by a great band. What immediately strikes you is patently how much blood, sweat and tears went into "Funeral." The group sound like they were constantly pushing themselves throughout, destabilising rock/pop convention with a quivering intensity, an imperativeness, a lyrical gravity we've only ever witnessed before with labelmates, British Sea Power or fellow Canadians, Thee Silver Mt Zion Memorial Orchestra (both Arcade Fire and Silver Mount Zion record at the Hotel 2 Tango studio; both are engineered by Howard Bilerman). Live, of course, Arcade Fire sound and look even better ˆ Edward Gorey freakshow stagehands releasing four thousand ravens into a charcoal Montreal sky. Anyone debating their proximity to God was not present at their recent Primavera Festival concert where they gloriously slammed titans like New Order, Sonic Youth and Tortoise into a drawer marked 'Old Hat.'
'Impossibly beautiful,' however clichéd, springs to mind, like a wet, black lamb at sunrise in the last dream of a dying cobbler. In parts, I was greatly in mind of the smotheringly beautiful, thoughtful soundtrack work for the films of Derek Jarman's "Blue" - the clatter of typewriter keys and gentle, hospital corridor whisper; muffled pulses. This is music for anyone who secretly wishes they were the "Piano Man" recently washed up on the Isle Of Sheppey. I cried 3 times, although I'd slept well the night before.
Self-funded, recorded at home but most importantly, made for the love of making music, "Waves & Echoes" is sadly, reputedly the last breath of Portal. It's refreshingly unfashionable, understated, minimal, warm, heartfelt. If you already have a place in your heart for Cocteau Twins' "Garlands," Pink Industry, early His Name Is Alive, make some more room. Information : www.makeminemusic.co.uk
Smog reminds me of an old house I used to live in and keep wandering
back to every now and then to see how it's faring. Sometimes, the
old place looks just the same. Sometimes, it looks like it'll fall
apart any minute. Sometimes, it looks like it'll be standing a hundred
years from now, long after I'm gone. "A River Ain"t Too
Much To Love" is the old place looking pretty much the same.
For the uninitiated, this is the perfect place to start exploring
the somewhat specialist fare the LTM label has recently made a spectacular
job of re-issuing. This DVD collection of low budget promo clips
focuses on a mixed bag of tracks released by Les Disques du Crepuscle
and Factory Benelux (Factory Records European licensing wing) throughout
the 80's. It's a fascinating two-and-a-half hours and not just for
those with a penchant for the post-Joy Division, 'grey raincoat'
school of isolationism (New Order, Stockholm Monsters, Crispy Ambulance,
Section 25 are all included). The collection, equally, nurtures
a love of less-is-more YMG/Weekend cheap drum-machine-powered Continental
café jazz/bossanova (Marine, Antena, Kalima) and the cowbell-and-clap
funk/pop of (Paul Haig, Quando Quango, A Certain Ratio). Of course,
given the fact that this was the 80's and many of these bands sold
fuck all, the clips here are predominantly 'O' level Media Studies,
The Durutti Column's 'Marie Louise Gardens" (better known as
'Never Known') consists of an extremely youthful Vini Reilly
plucking guitar in a park as the camera slowly (very slowly) pans
around him. Antena's "The Boy From Ipanema" is a kitsch,
blue screen, plastic palm tree seaside postcard. New Order (1981
live film of "Everything's Gone Green") look, if not sound,
fantastic. ). Anyone wondering where Franz Ferdinand's guitarist
plagiarized his every move needs to search no further than Josef
K's 'Sorry For Laughing." Berntholer suitably play down their
lush, beautiful micro-hit, 'My Suitor", though this is the
one video that evokes a side of the 80's you'd probably
rather forget : flecked suits, shoulder pads, A-ha hair and plastic
Bauhaus stage sets.
It's a little known fact that, should you find the oldest lullaby in the world, capture it in a velvet purse, bury it in a Swedish meadow on the first day of Spring and only dig it up 500 years later, will you be able to pour it onto your tongue and sing almost, yes almost, as sweetly as Vashti Bunyan. The unnecessarily ugly sleeve artwork of this EP is a wrong footer. Inside, Vashti purrs over improvised, organic, faintly hallucinogenic cacophonies that were long since sealed in a bottle with the genie in one of those old Sinbad movies. People who adore cats will adore the song about how adorable cats are. But they are wrong.
An absolute classic. This, the Everything But The Girl singer's only solo album, originally released in 1982, is bone bare, guitar and voice but all the more powerful for that. Thorn's guitar picking is so steady and unobtrusive that you can't help but listen to words that bleed directly from the heart to the mouth. Released around the same time as Ben Watt's own equally as coastal and impressive solo album, "North Marine Drive", it's obvious that these records were public conversations with each other. Both seem in the first flush of love; both pining across the grey slate rooftops of rainy Northern England. Indeed, given their dexterity for tapping into the lovelorn heart, it was probably essential logic that they combined for EBTG ˆ a unit which managed to make jazz sound emotive during a period of Robert Elms-patronised cocktail bar hipster bullshit like Blue Rondo A La Turk and Curiosity Killed The Cat. Watt and Thorn, you see, owed much more to Chet Baker's smoky 5am bar blues than they did to the jazz lite finger-snapping set. There's something in Thorn's voice that suggests the girl you either were at university or the girl you wanted but didn't dare ask out; the plain Jane who studied late into the night with Radio Luxembourg on in the background. The girl who kept herself to herself in the free periods, studiously scratching something in her notepad when, in truth, she daydreamed profusely about being swept away to anywhere but here. Information : www.cherryred.co.uk
I
played this track 14 times during breakfast this morning. I know
nothing about the band but picture, if you can, a more urgent Puressence.
The James Mudriczki vocal is uncanny. Now if they can just change
that name.
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