Flipsides & Otherwise: FAO #12

Although the MP3 revolution has encouraged and allowed music lovers to focus more on individual songs rather than albums, there’s still a role for singles, EPs and mini-LPs to catch shortform sonic bursts within contextual nets, to stop us all from drowning in digital file seas. Something that the following artists clearly and astutely recognise…

 

 

 

Vetiver - More Of The Past EP (Fat Cat Records, CD/7”/download)

If Vetiver’s recent full-sized covers collection, Thing Of The Past, was an ebullient embarrassment of riches then this postscript-EP rescue of its outtakes is even more embarrassing. Quite why these extra reinterpreted songs failed to make the grade for the parent/sibling compendium’s final tracklisting is positively mystifying, as their absence effectively stopped a seriously good album from being a seriously great one. That said, it does allow this clutch of bonus makeovers to stand-up together with a healthy collective posture. Again, the focus is upon finding further redemptive reclamations in the dark but warm recesses of Andy Cabic’s crackly vinyl collection. Thus, within the EP’s ranks you’ll find the soaring sweep through The Wizards’ “See You Tonight” assimilating an unexpected Kinksian edge that startles as much as it stirs a swoon; the folk-skiffle-style stride through “Hey Doll Baby” affectionately aping the vintage version cut by The Everly Brothers; the creaky trad. country hoe-down of “Before The Sun Goes Down” acting as a nicely jaunty mid-point; the lulling “Just To Have You” suggesting that Nils Lofgren’s short-lived early-‘70s discography with Grin might be worth investigating after all; and the harmony-saturation of Gordon Bok’s “Hills Of Isle Au Haut.” Perversely however, you’ll to have fork-out for the truncated 7”-only version of More Of The Past - which couples “Hey Doll Baby” with a serene spine-tingling take on “Miles Apart” from the cupboard of ‘80s art-electronica gurus AR Kane – to get the very best of the extraneous extracts of Vetiver’s archaeological digging. With such a glut of retroactive activity from Cabic and co. there could be understandable questions marks hanging-over Vetiver’s self-penning future prospects, but judging by current live shows, part-dominated by promising new material slated for the next proper record, we have very little to fear and much to anticipate. But in the interim, these soothing sun-revived oldies will do just fine in thawing-out the encroaching chill of winter.

Visit: www.fat-cat.co.uk

 

Piano Magic - Dark Horses EP / Plinth/Textile Ranch - The Rest, I Leave To The Poor (Make Mine Music, CD)

Just when it seemed like Glen Johnson had gone into human hibernation after last-year’s overlooked Piano Magic long-player (Part-Monster) along comes a new EP from the said collective, another outing for his Textile Ranch side-distraction and the forewarning of a debut solo set to be birthed early next year. In respect to the two former near-simultaneous releases, we find ourselves in the clasp of the extreme ends of Johnson’s morphing muse. The new 4-track Dark Horses EP, from his mothership enterprise is perhaps the most cohesive concentration of Piano Magic’s mercurial guitar-led excursions to date. Successfully fusing the desolate ethereal six-strings of The Durutti Column, the oblique percussive undertows of Dead Can Dance, the prowling low-end of early-New Order and the deadpan vocals of Joy Division is something others have tried but only Piano Magic can actually do with gravitas, sophistication, subtly and wit. Featuring Johnson on lead-vocals for three of the four gathered pieces, connections and comparisons are bleakly yet blissfully made with the group’s 2000-released pearl Artists’ Rifles (for the ocean-floor sweeping sadness of “Stations” and the quasi-militaristic “A Book I Should Not Read”) and with the manifesto-proclamations of “(Music Won’t Save You From Anything But) Silence” from 2002’s ill-fated 4AD set Writers Without Homes (for this EP’s title-track). For the latter’s word-playing communiqué, Johnson once more delivers a steely statement of intent, worthy of his lyrical-hero, Morrissey; “Our seal is a stamp to the heart/We cut through the din like a rattle/Our violence is closer to art.” Despite Johnson’s confident fulcrum direction, any new Piano Magic affair would now be incomplete without the bewitching tones of Angèle David-Guillou, who delivers the jaw-dropping goods – yet again – for the gliding rueful romancing of “Vacancies” (a sequel-of-sorts to the mesmeric titular cuts from 2005’s Disaffected LP and 2006’s Incurable EP).

Back inside the DIY domicile of his on/off Textile Ranch, Johnson has opted to refashion his solitary electronica-decorating by going postal in collaboration with Mike Tanner’s Victoriana-obsessed Plinth operation. Technically more of an album – with its 42 or so minutes duration – but restricted to a one-track attention-span-challenging presentation, The Rest, I Leave To The Poor is the sound of mutual self-indulgence serving a potent purpose. That purpose is to make a discerning listener stop, sit-down and become immersed in a multi-part aural suite of largely-instrumental enchantment. The carefully-combined results flow-out differently almost every time; incorporating diaphanous folk, elegiac electronics, found-sound cut ‘n’ paste, amorphous ambient dronescapes, haunted-house cinematics and wordless vocal manipulations. Whilst it’s certainly not the quickest entry point into Glen Johnson’s more exotic explorations, The Rest, I Leave To The Poor is far from being dauntingly melody-free or awkwardly austere. Champions of Piano Magic’s Son De Mar soundtrack, Brian Eno’s Ambient catalogue and perhaps even Pink Floyd’s underrated Atom Heart Mother should be at home here on the Plinth-raised Ranch.

Visit: www.piano-magic.co.uk

 

The Decemberists - Always The Bridesmaid: A Singles Series – Volumes 1-3 (Capitol/Y.A.A.B. Records/Jealous Butcher/Rough Trade Records, 7” in Europe/12” for US/download everywhere)

Seemingly – but perhaps shrewdly – in no rush to launch a full-length follow-up to the ambitious prog-meets-pastoral conceptualism of 2006’s The Crane Wife, Colin Meloy’s troupe return in piecemeal form after the sabbatical(s) enforced by tour-disrupting illness and extra-curricular activities. Echoing Belle & Sebastian’s string of standalone EPs – both philosophically and at times stylistically – released betwixt If You’re Feeling Sinister and The Boy With The Arab Strap, along comes a trilogy of lavishly-packaged singles for the last quarter of 2008. The sextet of songs spread across six sides of vinyl capture The Decemberists in less ostentatious settings, representing the ensemble in more straightforward lighting, to reveal both greater sincerity as well as the occasional fans-only cheese-grating moment. The already available Volume 1 is a solid if slightly too bravado-filled start, with “Valerie Plame” revisiting the carnivalesque cockneyisms of 2003’s Her Majesty The Decemberists before cheekily adding on a copyright-lawyer troubling “Hey Jude”-like vocal crescendo. The flipside to Volume 1 - “O New England” – may be less of a rousing sing-along, but it turns out to be more affecting and not too far removed from the prior loveliness of “The Crane Wife 3.” The newly-purchasableVolume 2 has a smart chugging pop A-side in the shape of “Days of Elaine,” which possesses a noticeable nod to the title-track of Belle & Sebastian’s aforementioned The Boy With The Arab Strap. However, the B-side cover of The Velvet Underground’s “I’m Sticking With You” is far too toe-curling and cutesy due to the more-than-twee pipes of Jenny Conlee taking on Mo Tucker’s side of the well-known duet. Probably the best is yet to come in time for Xmas though, via December’s Volume 3 platter, with the downbeat rustics of “Record Year” and the poignant lullaby-like “Raincoat Song” proving that pathos is a something worth exploring a little more than showy theatrics or uncomfortable role-playing. Taken as a trio, these slices of the grooved-plastic stuff from The Decemberists do at the very least confirm that there is plenty of life left in supposedly obsolete fashion-defying formats.

Visit: www.decemberists.com