Archives : all posts by Sean

Safe Home - "Me and the Bees". Soft pop from Germany The Netherlands, in just the right shade of morning. It's from a beautiful album called The Wide Wide World and All We Know; 16 light, acoustic songs with glimmers of laptop sounds, touches of flute. Not since the Kings of Convenience's debut (or maybe The Notwist's Neon Golden) has something like this worked so well - Tunng and Adem have their moments, but their albums don't hold a candle to Safe Home's new one (nor, for that matter, did the last Kings of Convenience record). This is a cover of the song by The Softies, and it's as milky as the way my sister used to drink her tea. But sweeter. Yes, sweeter. And much more warmly still.

[I highly recommend that you buy The Wide Wide World and All We Know]

The Burdens - "Lonely Town". I have a friend called Karin. And another Karin reads this blog as well. (Hi!) And in this band, a band called The Burdens, a girl called Karin plays drums. It is extremely unlikely that these three Karins are the same person. They have different last names, probably different haircuts. But I have to admit that when I listen to this song I imagine my friend Karin K behind the drums. Not because The Burdens sound like how I imagine Karin sounds, playing music. But because a Karin is a Karin, and the drums sound so, so, so trustworthy here. Richard Scullin sings and plays his guitar and he doesn't have to look back for even a second. He can sing about being lost, about being unsure, about "hey now / hey now / let it go". But he needn't ever question the friend behind him with her bangs in her eyes, who shakes her head as she hits the snare and smiles little glints of white on those rare moments she strikes a cymbal.

There's something very right in "Lonely Town" - like a melody that's fitted to your pocket. Alt.country without any country, or any alt. It's just the things you can't adequately write in words: want, home, wanderlust, the comfort of singing a sadness to friends.

[buy Living It Up]

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Amy at Shake Your Fist wrote a really exceptional piece on Frida Hyvonen - and then was asked to take the mp3s down. Ridiculous. But do check it out. I wrote about Frida a few weeks ago.

I'm really enjoying the Meg Baird track that Kyle posted, paired with a silly cartoon and Chris Garneau's (still wonderful) "Not Nice".

Tonight at the Tranzac in Toronto, Fig Records is putting on a show with Simon Finn (of Current 93 etc), The Saffron Sect, Castlemusic and Gramo-fave Wyrd Visions. All these artists are to appear on an upcoming album of reinterpretations of trad folk songs. I suspect both of these things will be ace. I, however, will still be in Scotland.

Marathonpacks is inviting various people to detail "bizarre" concert experiences. I wrote (clumsily as ever) about the upsetting and sublime release gig for the Arcade Fire's first EP, but I really like Cindy's story of vomit and Rilo Kiley.

I Heart Music's poll of the "Hottest Canadian Acts of 2006" is online. Final Fantasy tops the list, as all knew he would. I saw Owen again in Glasgow last week and there's no doubt in my mind that he deserves to be there. The rest of my ballot was: Swan Lake, Destroyer, Basia Bulat, The Winks, Sunparlour Players, Arcade Fire, The New Pornographers, Sunset Rubdown and Broken Social Scene. Some of my comments weren't published and if you like you can read them here, below the drop. I must admit that being so far away from Canada there are a lot of artists on that list whom I've never heard.

White Flight is Justin Roelofs is a former member of The Anniversary, a band I've vaguely heard of. The album comes in a beautiful austere-splendid fold-out, all white and rainbows. And it sounds amazing: that electrifying combination of familiar influences and a genuinely fresh sound, something that staggers and leaps to exactly the dreamlands it wants to. This is music from Kansas (!), the press release attests, and it's almost impossible to believe. Much easier to hear the hallucinogenic Oz of Roelofs' visit to Guatemala - the way colours shook his head slanted then straight.

"Deathhands" begins as a swampland of noise, organ, DJ Shadow-style drum breaks. But alongside the brokenfaced weirdness of, say, Frog Eyes, White Flight shows all the singsongy play of The Unicorns (for sure) and early Beck. Raps mixed with yells, stumbles with melodica. If you're in a boat, you're gonna get surf in the face. If you're on a dance-floor, you're gonna slip into a flip, impress all the girls.

"Song for Augustine Pt. 2" is the plainer thing, the pretty-creeping acoustic song that albums like this always need to have. At the end of the track you hear some of the swirl of what's to come, but I love how Roelofs keeps this a secret: there's no 'underlying churn' to the rest of the song. There's just a dozy, doozy, almost Devendra Banhart ditty: psychedelia rendered in different shades of desert-gold.

White Flight is the debut release of Range Life Records, and yeah it is the kind of album that inspires you to start a label. Go go go go go buy it (downloadable is only $7.49) - this is one of the year's best new bands. (MySpace/MfR likes it too)

Bowerbirds - "In Our Talons". Danger at Sea is the exceptional debut EP by Raleigh NC's Bowerbirds - a duo that roosts on fire-escapes, on garden paths and in holey sailing ships. Maybe in cherry trees, where all the cherries have already been eaten. "In Our Talons" is accordion and guitar, bass drum boom, voices twinned like wood and bark. Dee-da-dee da-da dee. So far away from the bloodless parade of The Decemberists: Bowerbirds have chirp and croak, true melancholy and truer hope, and the liberty with which they swing their drums reminds me of The Diskettes more than anyone else. Pop music that doesn't flinch at the first sign of storm: something to keep in your nets, your lockets, the flask over your heart.

Danger at Sea is hand-made and out now. It is very highly recommended. Buy a copy while you still can ($10!): we'll be hearing a lot more about this band.

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Jason Molina - "Let Me Go Let Me Go Let Me Go". Human beings are off balance. Hearts on the left side - and what on the right to balance it out? Nothing. Liver? Kidneys? Nothing perfect. We are off balance. It is no wonder our hearts tip us over.

Our hearts live in the dark. They never see the light of day - not unless there is some horror accident, some ultimate autopsy. Our hearts would wither in daylight. We keep them hidden.

I see a sign by a long set of stairs and the sign advises caution for those with heart problems. At moments like this, what does the person with the other heart problems do? Do they trust that the sign refers only to weak blood pressure, heart disease, pacemakers - and climb? Or do they stay below? Standing in their shoes at the base of the stairs. Feeling their broken heart in their chests. Wondering if at the top of these steps there is an orchid in the shape of their true love's face.

Jason Molina usually works behind the curtain of Songs:Ohia or Magnolia Electric Company. He is one of my favourite singers. "Let Me Go Let Me Go Let Me Go" is by an album of the same name, released this year. The record is one of Molina's finest works. (The others are Axxess & Ace and Magnolia Electric Co.) It was recorded in the dark. And off-balance.

Molina takes drum machine, organ, voice, and plays an electric guitar that sounds, distorted and ozone arctic green, like the last puffs of the dying, dying, dying northern lights.

[buy]

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rbally announced this week that they are calling it quits. For some time now it has been the best mp3blog for high-quality, noteworthy concert bootlegs, and it is a great pity to see them go. Before it all disappears, you'd be well to go get (at the very least) the Cat Power gig on there now. Jennings calls it one of the "loneliest" shows he's ever heard. This is true - but listening to this version of "Sea of Love", I just want to slip into somebody's bed.

Gramofriend David Gooblar's new band, Gooblar, are playing two shows soon in London - headlining Thu 2 Nov. at 333, and then Fri 17 Nov. at The Wilmington. I wrote about his song "Uh-Oh" a few months ago, and they're sure to play it. See a live version of "Uh-Oh" from a previous gig, over at YouTube. Londoners, do go.

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Sean's favourite colour for a leaf: blue.

We came across Daria Tessler at a small shop/gallery in Edinburgh. In her prints, spirits stalked forests, trees grew from boats and flatbed trucks. I thought I could hear raining, on that sunny day, and that is always a good sign that you are on to something.

Thank-you Daria. Please tell her what you think! - Sean

(Previous guest-blogs: Clem Snide, Marcello Carlin, Beirut, Jonathan Lethem, Will Butler (Arcade Fire), Al Kratina, Eugene Mirman, artist Dave Bailey, Agent Simple, artist Keith Andrew Shore, Owen Ashworth (Casiotone for the Painfully Alone), artist Kit Malo with Alden Penner (The Unicorns) 1 2, artist Rachell Sumpter, artist Katy Horan 1 2, David Barclay (The Diskettes), artist Drew Heffron, Carl Wilson, artist Tim Moore, Michael Nau (Page France), Devin Davis, Will Sheff (Okkervil River), Edward Droste (Grizzly Bear), Hello Saferide, Damon Krukowski (Damon & Naomi), Brian Michael Roff, Howard Bilerman (producer: Silver Mt. Zion, Arcade Fire, etc.). There are many more to come.)

Jennifer O'Connor - "Tonight We Ride".

Pavement - "Secret Knowledge of Back Roads" (live at the Cat's Cradle, 9/11/92).

There's just a whole lot of sky.

Buy Jennifer O'Connor's new album. Buy records by Pavement and The Silver Jews (who first performed this song).

Have a good weekend.

PAS/CAL - "Little Red Radio". The band's from Detroit and they sing of Christmas-time, so I can only assume that Detroit Christmases are full of blooming daisies, bounding ponies, picnics that turn into dance parties - everyone doing the twist on the red check blanket. "Little Red Radio" is a pop song of exquisite oomph, a dozen riffs arranged in starbursts on a plate. There's a touch of Of Montreal and mid-period Sloan, but mostly it's fuzz bass and organ, falsetto and overdubs, galloping drums. "Little Red Radio" is about as relentless as the New Pornographers, but whereas that band's like one long (glad) punch to the gut, Pas/Cal is more of a punch to the mouth: they'll make your flace flower.

If this song were a business card, then the person handing it out would be entitled a) to lots of dates; b) to lots of jobs. I know that business cards don't usually score you dates but usually business cards don't have sweet choruses that you can sing along to in the car.

[The Dear Sir EP is out on November 11 - pre-order / more info (and 2 earlier EPs to buy)]

Kocani Orkestar - "Mi bori sar Korani". This Macedonian brass band have influenced Balkans-come-lately like Beirut or Hawk and a Hacksaw, but I think it's more important to imagine the lovers they've inspired. Because while I can imagine a man sitting glumly and listening to "Mi bori sar Korani", nodding his head solemnly to the accordion solo, it seems much more likely that a girl with pepper curls might swing round on a clatter of horns, taking her cue from the four-tubas-and-drums to ask the fellow for a dance. This is gypsy wedding music. While you listen to the croon and the hard sparkle of horns, imagine the picture the liner-notes paint: "On the second day [of the three day wedding!], everyone gathers round the bride's house. Women are allowed to drink alcohol so they do drink a lot. Men paint patterns on their faces with lipstick and tear each other's shirts. The torn shirts are then arranged into a big pile which is set on fire. The band plays, everyone dance [sic]."

So don't be fooled. While there's something sensible in the croon of this song's singer, it's the madness of the trumpets that is most relevant. Because while the tubas tuba and the drums drum and the accordion accordions - with skill that could only be inebriated - the women are drunk, the men made-up, the shirts on fire, and everyone- well, everyone dance.

[buy]

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Some interesting discussion continues in the comments of Eef Barzelay's guestpost, mostly relating to gangsta rap and cute indiekid covers thereof.

Continental Divide - "The Days Fade, But He's Old". Sometimes I record music. Or at least I've been known to. Just silly little things, sometimes with a few friends but often just me toying with GarageBand in my room at 2am, yelling into my iBook's internal microphone. I love to have my headphones on, something playing, and me just singing for myself, yelling fuzzy, slipping off the beat, too loud or too quiet, like wine sloshing in a glass.

The boy at the head of Continental Divide sings in just this way; there's an organ that sounds like Sunset Rubdown's, drums surprisingly taut, but the greatest satisfaction is in the vocals' slip and buzz. The way it's so amateur it feels hand-sewn: a voice that knits knots.

[MySpace]

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Brave Radar - "Teton Ocean". A song of murmurs and then dawn's first fingers, more glow than light. It's easy to sing soft, sweet - to sound something like The Robot Ate Me, P:ano, The Microphones. The tricky bit is that glow. How to make a lamplight that won't bore the listener, that will keep on drawing them close. You need not just the right lamp, but the right lamp-lighters. The reason I'm posting this song is the triangle at 3:01, and then the clicks that are either a computer hiccuping, popcorn popping, chairs creaking, or a city's skies all full of fireworks as the sun's coming up.

[Brave Radar are from Sydney, Australia]

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Chris Garneau-"Not Nice". I had finished writing this post, had uploaded the songs and everything, when the newsletter appeared in my mailbox from Cory at Absolutely Kosher. He didn't talk much about the album called Beast Moans (by Swan Lake, which is out on his label for sale in November, which I heard for the first time today, which is remarkable, which is so much more beautifully messy than I had even hoped, which is of course Wolf Parade's Spencer K and Frog Eyes' Carey M and Destroyer's Dan B). Instead he talked about a couple of new signings. One of them is this man, Chris Garneau. And Cory in his newsletter he shared an mp3 by Mr Garneau. And Sean in the cold of his Edinburgh patio, where he steals wireless internet because his home broadband isn't yet hooked up, heard a sound that he knew he wasn't going to shake.

By the time I'd listened twice I was pretty sure it was one of my favourite songs of the year.

That's a self-absorbed introduction for a song that is much more important tonight than I am. I mean it: forget me. Just turn off the lights. See what Chris Garneau heals with piano and peculiar elocution. Listen as he sings, tongue folded, like he's taking flowers from his mouth and arranging them on a plate. Orchid, chicory, bluebell, nightshade. This is the inverse of Antony (& the Johnsons). It's as if Garneau's been gathering songs like this, stillness and piano and cello, and he's been collecting all the gaps in these other peoples' tracks. And then with care, yes with pain, he makes his own song - a song made just of the gaps. Of the pauses that make something flicker instead of shine.

What a beautiful and sad song.

[pre-order Music for Tourists and get it ahead of its January release/ more info]