Robert Turnell: You Fellows Of All Souls

 

Robert Turnell’s uncle was a highly respected newspaper editor, working on a leading UK national dailypublication, and ‘you fellows of all souls’ was his traditional welcome to any newly qualified graduates who found themselves staffing the newsrooms under Francis (later Sir Francis) Boyd’s editorship. It’s easy to picture the nervous shuffling and mumbling that Boyd snr. was able to create amongst these unworldly 20-something new bugs, althought the fact that he was eventually knighted for his services to journalism suggests that he wasn’t really that bad a bloke, when you knew him a bit.

 

And there’s an unmistakeable air of academic pomp hanging over the 10 tracks on Robert (formerly of Don’s Mobile Barbers) Turnell’s multi-layered pop explorations, like so much glinting dust hanging over the shelves and tables of some gloomy antiquarian library. First track “Tower To Piano” opens with a sequence of vastly reverberating guitars and drums which are overlaid with a mesmeric, almost esoteric, string section: this quickly mellows into a relatively straightforward guitar ballad, similar in some respects to the work of Ian Broudie, although lacking Broudie’s incessant nervous twitch, his sense of claustrophobia. Next track “Salute To The Folly” put me in mind of the Radar Brothers, and I thought them a bit on the slow side, but some neatly handled slide guitar gives the song the added energy it requires.

One band whose influence is apparent throughout the entire album are quite definitely Blur, although it’s the querulously dark Blur that brought us “This Is A Low” rather than the mockney japesters who created “Charmless Man”. Several of the tracks here share similar chord sequences, a repetitive motif which brings Blur’s “The Universal” to mind on more than one occasion. What’s needed here is some sparky Britpop and a little less reverence for whatever it is Robert Turnell finds so mildly intimidating.  The jangling surf guitars of “It Was Very Awesome” clock in at a startlingly abbreviated 51 seconds, and it’s left to final track “Impact Decay And Reverberations” to provide the  neccesary moment of edgy experimentalism that this album really needs.

Robert Turnell certainly has a talent but is spreading himself a little too thinly here, and some of his most interesting ideas aren’t quite fully realised. I can only too easily picture him composing ceaselessly away,  like some modern day Bob Cratchit, while the stern countenance of his illustrious ancestor glares down upon his efforts from above the fireplace.

http:www.myspace.com/youfellowsofallsouls

Cousin Dale – Quickly, Rapidly, Efficiently… And Fast

I’m always hesitant of punk music without an agenda. To me, punk music had to do with a sinking, dissatisfied feeling you had with the status quo. It was loud and un-polished, and intentionally so, but the actual sound wasn’t as important as the feelings of dissent behind it. Quality punk music isn’t necessarily good music- there are no virtuosos here, no radical tones or redefinition of what a three chord progression can do. This is a celebration of human expression.Punk bands can’t be judged on the quality of their musicianship, but on the content of their message. I wish I was more into punk, because it’s a really cool idea, and I feel like I’m doing Cousin Dale a disservice by judging them on standards they don’t even abide to.

Putting all my gripes about the music itself, I feel I can judge Cousin Dale on what they have to say, and they are one of those punk bands that captures the raw and unrelenting style pf punk, without the core of the ethos. The guitars are there, and the pounding backbeat, but the politics and the pure fucking vitrol are nowhere to be found. What’s left is the kind of party-punk “let’s all dance and have a good time” sentiment that can be found in basements and dirty clubs eveywhere. And I’ve heard enough of that.

But if you like punk for its sound, great. Cousin Dale Xeorxes it for you. “Punk Rock Show” gives everything away with the title- it’s the kind of pop punk best appreciate live and drunk. I really like “The Outsider”, which manages to accidently sum up the entire spirit of the genre – “I may not be the right guy… it’s time for me to ride into the sunset”. “Divided We Conquered” briefly touches on the Iraq war, but it’s not enough, and it feels too safe to really be punk.

The lyrics are laughable, and the vocals are flat and uninspired, and there are no surprises here. But punk music wasn’t ever about being clever. It’s about being honest, and even though I kind of slammed them, I get the impression that Cousin Dale believes in this music with all their being. The execution leaves a lot to be desired, but I can’t deny their passion.

Cake On Cake – Hymns I Remember

Do you like your sugar with a dash of coffee? Do you enjoy the way in which a little too much maple syrup totally saturates your stack of pancakes? Do you spend cold winter nights wrapped in lamb’s wool, dreaming of unicorns that would delicately prance on the fluffy snow outside your window? Are visions of sugar plums still dancing in your head long after Christmas has passed? If you find yourself answering any of these questions with an affirmative, please seek out the latest album from Swedish pixie Helena Sundin. Disguised once again under the name Cake On Cake, Sundin this time gives us Hymns I Remember, more a collection of cloying lullabies than a set of old spirituals.

Somewhere close to the icy glaze of the Cocteau Twins and the cool austerity of Nico is where Sundin and her band spend nearly all of this album’s running time. The layers of mallet percussion, keyboard, wind instruments, and reverb-soaked vocals found throughout Hymns I Remember were produced and mixed in such a way that the resultant textures aren’t all that unlike falling asleep underneath an electric blanket or down comforter; immediately, you are enveloped by a soothing and hypnotic warmth.

Variation in mood and style are altogether lacking, but it does give Sundin fourteen opportunities to show off just how polished she is at her craft. The musical equivalent of a parent waking up a young child up from a nap, the album begins with “Sunday Girl,” a track in which hush-hush vocal harmonies and understated electronic drums seem to indicate that this might just be a prologue to something far more grand looming on the horizon. Despite lyrics about a stupid blonde boy who coincidentally has the same wardrobe as Conway Twitty, the song retains an air of preciousness that you can only hope is tongue in cheek. Lyrical hints of a language barrier (“Pull up those curtains, that is covering your world.”) create an additional sense of awkwardness. Any hope of a big kick in the pants on the next track (“Visiting The Venice Biennale”) goes up in smoke faster than the decaying clink of a glockenspiel.

And so it continues: song after song of uninventive storytelling set to the tune of something that sounds like it came out of Hallmark’s best selling snow globe. The synth tones of “Missing The Snow” put a chill in the air as Sundin fondly reminisces about the joys of snow angels and alpine skiing. “The Love Advice” reads like that middle school love letter you’re ashamed of ever having written, all set to a beat that could’ve been devised by Portishead were it not for the saccharine metallophones. “Kokomo Love Song” find Cake On Cake venturing into faux-Caribbean territory, with a programmed drum beat that sounds like it was stolen from a Casio keyboard.

Only in two instances does the band dare to tread into murky (and somewhat interesting) waters. “The Box,” for all of its sickening sentimentality, gives some gorgeous cello playing a chance to be heard. The album’s instrumental closer, “Kate’s Little Paws,” sounds like so much of what came before, clarinet performance notwithstanding.

You’ve been warned. Unless your six year old is looking for soundtrack material as she shows off her new Disney princess costume to the family, approach this bit of syrupy sweetness with caution.

Guide to the Recordings of Cranes

Cranes is a cinematic rock/dream-pop/atmospheric electronic band formed by the brother and sister duo of Jim Shaw (song composer, drummer, keyboardist, guitarist, programmer) and Alison Shaw (songwriter, vocalist, guitarist, bassist) in the mid-1980’s in Portsmouth, England. Jim and Alison continue to create compelling, melodic, and distinctive music as Cranes, with their latest self-titled album released October 2008. In addition to the sibling core, the band has included other members over the years, with Mark Francombe (guitarist, keyboardist, bassist, 1990-1997) and Matt Cope (guitarist, 1990-1997) rounding out the original line-up, and later, with Manu Ros (drummer, 1996-1999), Paul Smith (guitarist, bassist, keyboardist, 1995-present), Jon Callender (drummer, 1999-2007), Ben Baxter (bassist, 2000-present), and David Hirschheimer (drummer, 2008) joining the band. Cranes released a rare cassette of demos titled Fuse in 1986. Then the release of debut album Self-Non-Self in 1989 caught the attention of legendary DJ John Peel and the band recorded a Peel Sessions with him, gaining recognition and accolades in the U.K., while also being tagged as “gothic” by the music press, a perception that persists to this day, even though the band members don’t consider the band’s sound to fall into this musical genre. Most of the band’s albums were released by Dedicated record label in U.K. and BMG record label in U.S., until Jim and Alison started their own record company named Dadaphonic in 2001. They released studio albums Future Songs, Particles & Waves, and Cranes, as well as the live album Live In Italy and re-issues of Wings of Joy and Forever on the Dadaphonic record label. The music that Jim and Alison create has evolved over the course of their career, mixing in diverse elements from different musical genres including industrial noise, distorted rock guitars, classical strings and woodwinds, contemplative piano, electronic sounds, and folk guitar strum, all while retaining an overall melodic and flowing soundscape.

Self-Non-Self [Bite Back!, 1989; reissued on Dedicated, 1992]

This intense debut album sounds like it was recorded in a metal-walled warehouse, projecting an abrasive, cavernous, and restless sound with industrial noise accents, scraping sheets of distorted guitars, pounded drums, and deep, rumbling bass lines off-set by Alison’s plaintive, strong, but uneasy, and sometimes tormented vocals. “Heaven or Bliss” has Alison standing on the precipice, shouting out her vocals on the chorus, pushed to a keening cry against the ramped up turmoil of strangulated horn bleats, throwing-sparks machinery, and stark drum beat. “Beach Mover” slows it down with a heavy, pounded-out beat, a wiry and warped tangle of guitar strings, and Alison moving from hushed and dreamy sing-talking vocals to sharply exclaiming, doubled vocals. The quicker-paced “Focus Breathe” punishes with a flat, hard beat and factory noises as Alison spells out “focus” in a fierce, hissing whisper. She repeats the song title like a medieval chant, in a low tone, as if channeling someone else, against a driving-down-highway sound. The song “Fuse”, strangely enough, is not on the Fuse cassette, but is featured here, with Alison murmuring calmly on the verses, then exclaiming on the chorus against seething steam valve sounds, short-riff guitars, and a juddering bass line. “Reach (live)” contains an ominous bass line and a feverish push of searing guitar blasts and a distraughtly wailing Alison who sounds like she’s trapped in a nightmare.

Wings of Joy [Dedicated; 1991]

The band’s breakthrough album mixes some of the harshness of the debut with a quieter delivery of strings and piano notes. Grinding mechanical sounds, serrated guitar lines, and deep drums are tempered by minor chord progressions, delicate, but somber piano notes, mournful strings, and Alison’s airy, contemplative vocals. Album opener “Watersong” starts it off on a light and tender note with water-drop-like plucked strings and winding, sonorous woodwinds, as Alison draws out her phrases in a higher-pitched, but placid tone. “Leaves of Summer” begins mildly with the bass line shadowing a ponderous piano refrain and Alison’s vocals floating yearningly on top of it, until the chorus roils the water with bashed drums and rip-roaring guitars, spurring the sound forward as Alison exclaims against insistent guitar and piano notes. The dynamic and dramatic stunner “Starblood” blows it all away with a backbone of primal, but measured-pace, thumped drums, swift blasts of metal-shearing guitars, and Alison’s traumatized, baby’s-breath wails on the chorus. A stark break occurs mid-way through the song where it’s just the pounded beat of the drums and Alison exclaiming in distress. Then the guitars launch another assault, scouring against Alison’s defiantly rising vocals. “Tomorrow’s Tears” is an antidote to the turmoil as it unfurls cautiously with a pensive Alison sing-talking against an ephemeral, piano-driven refrain, brushed drums, and bass accents that lead to a chorus filled with Alison’s expressive, keening cry and contemplative, lingering piano notes. “Adoration” continues in an introspective, but powerful vein, with a gracefully slow, but continual ascension of sound and emotion of antique piano notes, muted drums, and strummed guitars, along with aching cellos and Alison’s longing vocals that lift the song up to a poignant peak.

Forever [Dedicated; 1993]

Cranes opened for The Cure on the Wish World Tour in 1992 and subsequently released this album which packs brisk, catchy pop hooks into the first few songs, then rocks out before retreating into a bright, but drifting reverie. A pervasive sense of melancholy and restlessness that marks previous albums is apparent here too, but is softened by a smoother flow of guitars and strings and Alison’s wistful vocals. “Everywhere” opens with a continual acoustic guitar strum that keeps a steady beat against a sinuous, siren-like sound as Alison sing-talks in a hushed, downy voice. By the end of the song, the tempo quickens, with Alison singing in a dreamier tone as the guitar strum intensifies and another siren-like sound joins the mix. “Jewel”, the clear pop gem of the album, has the same strummed, acoustic guitar template as “Everywhere”, but with more chord progressions, as Alison sing-talks in a sweetly demure tone, until a wash of burnished guitars takes over in the mid-section. The “verse, chorus, verse” order is restored soon after, with Alison reprising her hushed, curling tones against the bright guitar strum. “Adrift” is the clear rock song of the album, with a choppy beat, fast piano notes and guitar strum, fretful violins, and undercurrent of bass on the verses. Alison’s vocals are filled with apprehension and are swept away by a heaving chorus of monstrously churning guitars, bashed drums and cymbals, and siren-like sound whipping up a storm. “Clear” is another heavy song with raw, driving-down-highway and skirling siren sounds, gritty, distorted guitars, and crisp beat. Alison sing-talks her vocals in a short-phrase, sing-song tone against the pushing beat, brushing up against the musical roughness until an interlude of low-register strings. The hazy sheen of “Golden” quiets the proceedings with its elongated pull of strings, constant reverb guitar, Alison’s breathy vocals, and absence of drum beat. The guitar dictates the pace as Alison’s vocal tone shadows the minor chord strings, sounding more low-key, but still unsettled.

Loved [Dedicated; 1994]

This album travels the globe musically with its rich incorporation of varied instruments and rhythms and Alison’s breathy, but assured vocals. While a base of guitars and strings remain, other instruments like xylophone and orchestral strings are added to the mix. The rousing, up-tempo “Shining Road” has a Spanish air to the strummed guitar, accentuated by a fast-stepping beat and clear vocals from Alison. The propulsive guitars and xylophone touches add to the restless push as Alison’s vocals become dreamier on the chorus. “Pale Blue Sky” comes on all gauzy and burnished with a slower, warped guitar riff and bass line placed against a dynamic beat. Alison sings in a child-like, aching tone and her vocals radiate warmly against the breezy, but distorted guitar and growling bass line. “Lilies” rocks out with a storm-tossed vibe of rapid, pushing beat, short, violent, distorted guitar riffs, and Alison’s anxious, little-girl-lost vocals. The full-force gale of lurching guitar riffs and scraping strings bursts in on the chorus, battering a dazed Alison as she exclaims in astonishment “Where am I?” “Beautiful Friend” settles back with a softer, Spanish-sounding, warped guitar line that continues through the whole song, and a light, knocking-wood sound, cymbal tap, fleet-footed beat, and Alison’s reserved tone. An intermittent scraping sound, shifting beat, and waves of warped guitar keep the song on its toes. “Paris and Rome” emits a crepuscular elegance with Alison’s hushed vocals and muted bell tings, knocked wood, tapped metal beat, and Asian-inspired, glass-like xylophone notes. The song expands at the two-minute and four-minute marks, with a velvety glissade of orchestral strings saturating the other instruments.

La Tragedie d’Oreste et Electre [Dedicated; 1996]

Alison and Jim branch out on this album, which is based on the play “Les Mouches” by Jean-Paul Sartre, which, in turn, is based on the Greek mythology of Orestes and Electra. Alison takes on the personas of Orestes and Electra for the duration of this 7-song album, reading extracts, in French, of Jean-Paul Sartre’s play, while Jim accompanies Alison’s vocals with classical instruments. Avant-garde to say the least, n’est-ce pas? On “Orestes and Electra” Alison crams in a lot of French words amid two sets of pizzicato strings, flute notes, piano, and other languorous, drawn-out strings. Alison’s vocal delivery is one of anticipation, as she becomes Orestes and Electra, talking to each other, exclaiming lightly against the classical sound of heightened pulls of strings. “Electra’s Dance” is reminiscent of certain songs on Wings of Joy, with the use of reverberating and plucked strings, woodwinds, and piano notes. Alison’s vocals are light and plaintive as she balances the melancholy of the more solemn instrumental passages, until she whispers a chilling cry of “Les mouches, les mouches…” at the end of the song. “In the Temple” continues with a contrast between heightened strings and mellow, lower-register strings that shadow the higher ones precisely. Alison’s mid-range, talking vocals are hushed and perturbed amid curving flute notes and a rumbling bass-like buzz. “Dance of the Furies” is full of tumultuous cymbal crashes and rapidly stabbing strings that clash against slower, sonorous strings and Alison’s vocals that embody a sense of wonderment as Orestes and Electra look on at The Furies. Calm passages give way to piquant strings with dashes of flute and overlapping, whispered vocals as the story progresses…

Population 4 [Dedicated; 1997]

The band went for a more accessible and less mysterious rock and pop format on this album, with a drum, rock guitar, and vocals set-up, supplemented with acoustic guitar and some strings and piano on certain songs. Alison’s vocals are clear and her lyrics are discernable. Despite the simplification, the songs retain their catchiness and melody. “Tangled Up” is a low-key, straightforward number that showcases Alison’s vocals and strummed guitars. Alison’s voice is little-girl sweet, backed by an acoustic guitar picking out a pattern, and a second, banjo-like guitar playing a more intricate, fleeting melody. “Fourteen” is more experimental with loops of Alison’s exclaiming, short-phrase vocals verging on each other against a fuzzed-out rock guitar line, bashed drum beat, and grinding guitars. A distorted, grumbling bass line rears its head amid Alison’s manipulated, sing-talking vocals. “Can’t Get Free” starts off sunny with sweet vocals from Alison and an up-tempo guitar strum and beat, but it turns cloudy upon the introduction of strings on the chorus, shifting to minor chords and a gritty guitar overlay, with Alison’s vocals wistfully flitting in the background. Jim takes center stage on “Stalk”, a song he wrote, and where he sings in a dusky, determined tone and strums guitar. On the chorus the tempo picks up with strings and tambourine hits added to the guitar strum, drum beat, and Jim’s low-key, but ominous tone, as Alison sings wordlessly in the background. “Angel Bell” recalls earlier Cranes songs with its precarious balance between noise and melody. A disquieting, scraping-bow sound is smoothed out by guitar strum and a slow beat, as Alison’s clear vocals come to the fore. On the chorus, a rush of heavier, pounded beat, cymbal crash, rock guitars, and strafing, reed-like sound take over, as Alison strikes out vocally, sing-talking emphatically against the weaving, discordant noise.

EP Collection, Vols 1 & 2 [Dedicated; 1997]

This 2-disc retrospective album collects many rare B-side tracks, as well as the more known songs from studio albums. Disc 1 is heavy on the earlier, rougher sound with two cuts of Self-Non-Self, “Beach Mover” and “Heaven or Bliss”, “Tomorrow’s Tears” from Wings of Joy, and loads of EP B-sides. Disc 2 is a mix of studio albums songs like “Shining Road”, “Beautiful Friend”, “Lilies” (Flood Mix), and “Paris and Rome (Flood Mix)” from Loved, “Adoration” from Wings of Joy, “Adrift” and “Jewel” from Forever, and “Angel Bell”, “Tangled Up”, and “Breeze” from Population 4, and more rare cuts like “In the Temple” and “Dance of The Furies” from La Tragedie d’Oreste et Electre. “Brighter” (from Adoration EP, 1991) has a Spanish guitar flair at the start, like certain songs on Loved, and then driving guitars make inroads accompanied by a constant, dark beat and Alison’s airy, hushed singing. By the chorus, Alison’s vocals sharpen and swell against the briskly strummed acoustic and distorted guitars. “Inescapable” (from Inescapable EP, 1990) exerts a precarious, edge-of-cliff tension with its somber, low-register strings pulling against a steady beat and burgeoning, distorted guitars as Alison sings in an echoed, dreamy, but unsettled tone. As the intensity builds, grinding machinery and piercing notes open up the song to looming, shifting strings, with Alison sharply expressing her vocals, pushing at the end of phrases, one after the other, barely catching her breath between her exclamations. “September” (from Shining Road EP, 1994) is a low-key number, but contains rapid and constant guitar strum with many chord changes and low, aching strings steeping in the background. Alison’s vocals are soft, airy, and bittersweet, tinged with melancholy, and as she introspectively reminisces, her vocals change to a lighter, whispered tone on the chorus against piano notes played in the same register as the guitar strum. There are two hidden tracks on Disc 2, the first being “Slide”, a smooth, supple, but stirring guitar-based number that starts with subdued guitar strum and then launches into a deeper surge of somber, controlled-distortion guitars, fast-paced beat, and Alison’s sweet, floating vocals that are caressingly sustained and relaxed. “Starblood Remix” is the second hidden track and differs from the version on Wings of Joy by the fact that all the sounds are equal in the mix and Alison’s vocals are manipulated. This creates a less potent take on the song because the vocal angst, searing guitar lines, and drums are at the same audio level and lose their edge. While this remix doesn’t plunge and bludgeon as dramatically as the original song, it’s still a force to be reckoned with.

Future Songs [Dadaphonic; 2001]

Jim and Alison noticeably changed the style of their sound on this album, opting for a subtle ambient and electronics approach with a slowed down pace and an emphasis on clearer, ethereal vocals from Alison, and a permeating gentle frisson of tranquil instrumentation instead of overt turmoil. “Future Song” sets up the subdued vibe with cymbal tap and shimmering, somber strings, and Alison singing in a hushed, reserved tone (Is she happy or is she sad?). The beat is slow and accented with attenuated strings and reverberating, limpid guitar lines. The pace picks up on the chorus, with a restless scramble of strings and guitars as Alison cries out on the ends of phrases. “Sunrise” stays suspended on low-register strings, a steady beat, warped flute notes, laid-back steely, strummed guitar and another guitar that flows with wavering riffs against Alison’s restrained, pang-of-regret vocals. “Fragile” continues the slow, low-key sound with a shaken-sand beat, cymbal tap and shimmer, and layers of watery, globular notes and acoustic guitar lines moving in and out of Alison’s upfront vocals that echo and dissipate to the flap of bird wings and rainstorm sounds. An alt-country sound appears on “The Maker of Heavenly Trousers”, with its mellow, light acoustic guitar strum, drums, and brushed cymbals. Alison’s vocals are clear and light, turning to a higher register on the end of phrases in the chorus, reflecting the clement nature of the song.

Particles & Waves [Dadaphonic; 2004]

This album is the most serene of the band’s output and is divided between the soft ambience of light electronic sounds and loops and alt-country guitar strum. Songs take their time, exuding a placid vibe that is less reliant on beat and rhythm, while showcasing Alison’s airy, pristine vocals. “Vanishing Point” sets a backdrop of twittering birds, blowing wind, and a spacey, swirly sound against Alison’s clarion, sugared vocals, a steady shaken-sand beat, and plinking bell-tone sounds, all mellow and calm until the song takes a sudden change of direction, with the sound of a window being shut, and an upbeat, acoustic guitar kicking in with a alt-country strum, and Alison singing against a brushed beat and the same bell-tone notes and spacey sound as at the start. “Here Comes the Snow” has a laid-back, languorous feel, with a drawn-out, lulling beat and two slow guitars, with Alison’s vocals soft and sighing, until a sudden change occurs in the song, with the startling superimposition of bright, discordant electronic blips. The relaxed pace is fragmented briefly by drum and cymbal crash cacophony and Alison breaks through it all with elongated, exclaiming vocals highlighted by bell-tone notes. “Particles and Waves” creates a haunting mood that recalls the agitation of earlier Cranes songs, with a spacey, spinning metal sound, restless guitar frisson, and Alison singing in French in a cool tone, with her short phrases on the chorus following closely upon the heels of one another. The instrumental “Astronauts” is a rapid refrain of dainty, brightly chiming music-box notes, electronic beeps, and pattering water-drop sounds backed by a siren going by, and was utilized in the American Express television commercial that featured actress Kate Winslet.

Cranes [Dadaphonic; 2008]

The band merges the sedately flowing, subdued sound of Future Songs with the light electronic notes and strummed guitar of Particle & Waves, creating a contemplative, meditative album of drawn-out tempos and clear, airy, but longing vocals from Alison. “Worlds” works in a repetitive refrain of keyboard notes and intermittently hit bell-tone notes as Alison sing-talks with a feathery ache to her vocals, sounding her most vulnerable on a Cranes song, as a steely, rapidly strummed guitar and drums and cymbals quicken the pace of the song. Mid-range, attenuated strings pull in the background, mirroring Alison’s wistful tone until the song drifts away with wandering, delicate bell notes. A tinkering wood beat, water-drop plinks, and light, wavering guitar line resonate on “Feathers” as Alison comes in with sweet, calm, little girl vocals, creating a mellow vibe. Alison sings in French encore on “Panorama” amid lower-tone reverb guitar, drum beat, cymbal tap and shimmer, and globular keyboard notes. Alison is at her most outgoing on “Move Along”, sing-talking and exclaiming freely as the song enfolds a slower tempo of light, xylophone-like notes and underpinning of strings into a faster paced drum beat and strummed guitar pop structure. “High and Low” ends it with guitar strum, piano notes, brightly undulating, tinkling notes, and Alison’s airy, searching vocals as she sings “Maybe one day I’ll know / but I’ve still got a long way to go.”

A. Armada – Anam Cara EP

What an interesting press release, when it reads, “The field of instrumental bands is becoming more and more crowded…why should you care about A. Armada out of Athens, GA?” It’s somewhat of a quandary, for sure, and it’s even a bit misleading when the people who are out trying to gain you exposure have this enormous pitfall set up. Whether or not it’s supposed to be supportive, this post-rock quartet has been able to overcome and have surprised many with their successful debut EP, Anam Cara.

This is the kind of music that just screams for a vocalist and yet, when one never arrives, it still does just fine without it. No, this isn’t incredibly flawless music but there is definite strength here. “Fall – Triumph” comfortably rests in the middle of the album’s shimmer and gloss. And while it begins with a melancholy guitar, reminiscent of Interpol’s initial days, the music comes together in a towering peak of bombast and force. As everything is being built around the singular guitar, it ends with a frenetic tirade that may be a hint over the top but just enough to really affect.

There are few, true, quiet moments on this debut but that isn’t to say that there’s a lack of dynamics—there just isn’t much between soft and loud. “The Dam was Split but the City was Saved” begins with powerful drums that sound like they are being pounded away from the depths of a throbbing jungle and the guitars roar with a precise roar and grit. There is the right mix of repetition and deliberate shifts to draw anyone in and it segues into “The Moon Shifts…” with crafty ease taken right out of Sigur Rós’ book.

The cacophony of album closer, “If Only You Knew what the Lost Soldiers did to Me” is a tough pill to swallow. It’s hard to know what the band was going for because for such an epic-sounding album that mimics the stadium-rock riffs of U2 and Coldplay, the aforementioned just falls a bit flat. And certainly after something as prevailing as “Into Days & Nights & Years & Months,” there should have been something more impressive.

And still, I can’t help but feel like the small problems are nearly harmful. The fourth and fifth could have easily been switched, the climax could have been paced better, etc. For a genre that requires it to be amazing to even be recognized, Anam Cara does just fine for itself. This is a melodic, gripping, impressive debut that will surely garner tremendous attention. And in the end, with a debut as good as this, the future seems bright for A. Armada.

Boris Smile – Beartooth EP

This too-short EP’s cover art had me hooked before I even listened to the first track. It’s simultaneously appealing in style but dark in theme, and that’s an excellent way to approach the Beartooth EP. Because Boris Smile – the project of A. Wesley Chung and a revolving cast of musicians that credits more than a dozen performers simply on this EP – is comfortably in the indie-pop realm, but a darker and richer tone to songwriting is evident on this release and especially the title track.

Boris Smile’s songs remind me of The Long Winters or John Vanderslice, in that they’re more acoustic and bare than indie-popsters like Death Cab. Vocals and acoustic guitar make up the centerpiece of these five songs, but there’s a richness in the arrangements (primarily driven by Seth Shafer) and a host of backing instrumentation that varies from horns and keys to strings and choir vocals. The excellent production never lets those additions become the focus of the song, but they create a lovely and rich backdrop to excellent songwriting.

The opening “Beartooth (Spooky Version)” perfectly sets the stage for the EP. It’s suitably stark and spooky, but the darker tone doesn’t overwhelm the band’s pop sensibilities, and Chung’s clever songwriting comes through. The echoing backing vocals provide the rich backdrop to “Beartooth,” but Chung’s voice and acoustic guitar is the clear centerpiece to the more stark “Hour of the Wolf.” The more plaintive tone to “Tut-Tut” reminds me of Clem Snide, building on a glorious swirl of pop instrumentation, while “Program Me to Love” is quieter, more mid-tempo and introspective, with hints of geeky technology references and accompanying bleeps in the background. The John Vanderslice references are more evident on the keyboard-led “Books of Blank Pages,” which is a pretty and lush way to close the EP.

Unfortunately, a web search for Boris Smile is far more likely to turn up the album Smile by Boris than this Long Beach independent band. That’s a shame, because this band could use a better presence to feature its delightful music. There are at least two other releases, but it’s difficult to find out much about them. And this teasingly short EP definitely makes me want to hear more. Indie-pop fans will love this band’s rich and clever songs.

DeVotchka Tour Dates

1/27 – Aspen, CO @ Belly Up

1/28 – Salt Lake City, UT @ In the Venue

1/29 – Reno, NV @ Grand Sierra Resort & Casino – Grand Theatre

1/30 – San Francisco, CA @ The Fillmore

1/31 – San Francisco, CA @ The Fillmore

2/2 – West Hollywood, CA @ Viper Room

2/4 – San Diego, CA @ The Belly Up

2/5 – Tempe, AZ @ The Clubhouse

2/6 – Tucson, AZ @ Rialto Theatre

2/7 – Lubbock, TX @ Jakes place Sports Café

2/8 – Austin, TX @ La Zona Rosa

2/9 – Houston, TX @ Warehouse Live – Studio

2/10 – Dallas, TX @ House Of Blues

2/13 – Denver, CO @ Paramount Theatre

3/6 – Miami, FL @ Langerado Music Festival

3/7 – St Augustine, FL @ S. Johns County Fairgrounds

3/16 – Kansas City, MO @ The Beaumont Club

3/17 – St. Louis, MO @ The Pageant

3/19 – St. Paul, MN @ Myth

3/20 – Milwaukee, WI @ The Rave

3/21 – Chicago, IL @ The Riviera Theater

ISIS Reveal New Album Details

ISIS, the Los Angeles by way of Boston band, has set a May 5 release date for their anticipated new album, Wavering Radiant (Ipecac Recordings). The album, produced by Joe Baressi (Tool, Queens off The Stone Age), will see a limited edition vinyl version released on Apr. 21. Tool’s Adam Jones contributed guitar to two songs from the new release.

Milton Cross – Light in the West

Milton Cross delivers instrumental ambience brimming with subtle power on his new album, Light in the West.  Although it’s an eclectic blend of instruments and muted noises, his music follows a defined thread to the last, using consistent recording techniques, sound selections, tones and timbres that breed some kindred feelings and atmospheres. The result is a warm and haunting success.

Cross, from the band Tarantel, is a classically trained violinist. He plays with artistry here, never indulging. Light in the West layers tracks of violin over flinty acoustic guitars and organic drones leaked from a harmonium. Those instruments are mixed with earthy ambient sounds of muffled life on Cross’ intimate home recordings. Some compositions discover fascinating timbres, tones, and soft oddities. Instruments and ambience channel quasi-Eastern arrangements into warm atmospheres that encourage the imagination to sing along.

Light in the West struggles briefly around the half way mark as the initial charms weather, but Cross’ focus pays off. The nearly 12 minute opener, “It’s Been Almost a Year”, is a prime example of that focus. A violin eases into the album, trailing leads over a glowing drone. After the 5 minute mark, the violin gains agility, finding brief moments of dissonance as its pulse quickens, eventually achieving a furious vibrato. With fast bow work, the dissonance fades back into melody before melting into the drone nearly 10 minutes in.

A fuzzy treble chimes from an acoustic guitar on “Mull It Over From the Midwest”. The recording’s intimacy allows the scrapes and rattles of the strings to work with the reedy distortion. The chords cut between dissonant and open chords wrapped in echo and reverb. “Leaves Do Not Have Meaning” shows the album’s more experimental leanings by risking an ambience that sounds vaguely like walking through a forest with a hidden microphone capturing the muffled sound of loose earth crunching beneath your feet. Such ambience is a motif on Light in the West, making for some dark but inviting sounds.

“First There Came a Letter From a Tree” features more acoustic strumming under the roomy crackle of a needle having reached the end of a vinyl record. Harmonium and violin emerge, and sound like a recording played backwards. Again, Cross achieves some compelling sonics. “Light In the West Where It Will Always Be Morning” is perhaps the album’s most subtle track. The acoustic guitar, drone, and ambience sound so subdued, like a frayed and faded streamer from last year’s parade, left still wagging in the breeze.

At a time when the indie elite are conquering the mainstream by revitalizing the best of pop music’s past, Light in the West is a breath of fresh autumn air. This album invites the ears, but eludes judgment. If you like ambient music or are looking for something different, give it a try.

The Distant Seconds – Spectral Evidence

It can’t be easy doing the indie rock thing in Austin, Texas these days. Cutting your teeth in a community that is fast becoming this decade’s version of Seattle brings with it staggering competition and exceedingly high expectations. And having the country’s largest independent music festival in your hometown (South By Southwest) might just be a blessing and curse, as it brings attention to dozens of off-the-radar bands that are all clamoring for just a bit of media attention from musical tastemakers like Pitchfork and Paste. That being said, the Distant Seconds have their work cut out for them. Bearing a sound that claims allegiance to Sonic Youth and Roxy Music and yet comes off as an unaffecting side project of (fellow Texans) Spoon, the band garnered a noteworthy performance at the 2008 edition of SXSW. Building on that momentum, Matthew Baab (guitar, vocals), Kirk Miles (bass guitar, vocals), Charles Ewing (drums, vocals), and Brandon Bunch (keyboards, mallet percussion) present Spectral Evidence to the salivating indie masses. If this half hour of aplomb and swagger indicates anything about the Distant Seconds’ vision of success, it’s that the road is apparently paved with palm muted guitars.

Spectral Evidence begins on a deceptive note with “Disembalmed,” a 60 second atmospheric teaser that hardly provides justification for listing Brian Eno as a main influence. When the echo and feedback finally decay, the band launches into the first of many unmemorable rock tunes with “Throb In Unison.” Take away the eyebrow raising title, and you’ll find little to keep your attention. Matt Baab’s vocals, delivered with a detachment that sounds very carefully calculated, are barely discernible as the eighth note pummeling of the guitars and bass drag the song along. Thankfully, some interesting keyboard textures, bass riffing, and energized tambourine playing in the song’s coda section save things from being a complete toss out. If you listen to the first ten seconds of this cut as well as the title track, “Half A Believer,” and “Your Politics,” you get the impression that either the band was suffering from a momentary lack of creativity, or that they just really believe in the redemptive power of palm mutes and slightly fuzzed out guitar leads.

The band does show signs of life on tracks like “We’re Unstoppable” and “Even The Help Are Dancing Now.” Though the former sounds clearly indebted to Spoon, Baab uses his sandpaper vocals to sing, “I embrace the present tense in all its meaningless expense” over an accompaniment that features a squall of guitar noise and Fender Rhodes countermelodies. But it is in “Even The Help Are Dancing Now” that we see a band actually stepping outside its self-imposed limitations to create something that has some life to it. A little jangle from the tambourine and a gritty yet danceable bass line keep things sounding fresh throughout the track as Baab reiterates that, “the only thing to do for you is everything.” The only real bummer here is that the song’s cool and breezy attitude cannot even eclipse the three minute mark before crashing to a halt.

The album’s epic song, “Build Your Own Los Angeles,” is the band’s most obvious connection to Sonic Youth. On the verge of being dissonant and losing itself to noise throughout its six minute running time, it would’ve made far more sense to place this song as the album’s closer rather than “Bridget Bishop,” where a lack of woozy and druggy overtones make the song feel like a half-hearted attempt at starting over rather than a commitment to gently fade away.

Anyone looking for some meat and potatoes rock may find something to chew on with Spectral Evidence, but otherwise, you’d be better off making a playlist of your favorite cuts from Sonic Youth’s Daydream Nation and Spoon’s Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga. If the Distant Seconds want to snatch some positive press on this year’s festival circuit, they might just want to go directly to the source of their inspiration and check in with Thurston Moore or Britt Daniel for some advice on how to expand on something that, for all of its promise, still comes up short.

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