Hot Summer And Good Winter

Back from a field where I cast of the shackles of technology to give myself more freely to the worship of the sun and the start of a new season in the turning of the world, or to put it more plainly back from solstice celebrations sans new phone remembering that high-tech is not for me and that beating drums and swilling port in fields most definitely is. Then watched other people in fields as the self torture of televised Glasto footage enters my living room, but maybe Radiohead, Pulp, Eels, Elbow and QOTSA would have been too much for this little muso’s head to take in so I will just wish a hearty congratulations to my dear brother who proposed to his lovely girlfriend while at the festival and wish them all the best in their sun filled lives together. Meanwhile I will soak in glorious music as always and re-tell stories of my love with a big long rant about the brilliance of ‘Bon Iver’ and their self titled new offering‘Bon Iver’.

A highly anticipate release in my eyes, this is an artist who forms a beautiful soundtrack to the equally beautiful love affair I am still very much involved in. When I was worrying about the commitment I was forming with someone in a period of my life when commitment making was supposed to be very low on the priority agenda, I hesitated before booking tickets to a show four months in advance and all the connotations that might infer but was richly rewarded when we saw Justin and Co perform a show on December the 7^th 2008 at the Victoria Apollo that immediately entered my top 10 Live performances of all time (this list would be shared if interest was shown).

 Sam and I quibble over if it was during, ‘Blindsided’ or ‘Skinny Love’ that I first whispered those three special words in her ear. I can’t believe I would have been so clichéd to pick the single and after all ‘I’m not really like this, I’m probably plightless’. From then it was a single bed in a student house where we were prone to annoying the neighbours that the early morning slumbers were made the more glorious by the sounds of ‘re:stacks’ and the rest of the blissful album ‘For Emma And Ever Ago’, never a truer indication that misery doesn’t always have to breed misery and that heartbreak can nurture new love. Don’t worry it’s not the girl I’m going to talk about here it’s the music, besides I always read these ramblings to Sam out loud before posting them on that there T’internet so that has been quite enough soppiness to induce a blush on even my usually unflappable cheeks.

Justin Vernon soon became the man who went up a mountain and came down a musician, a mantle and mystery he can’t be too irritated by as the cover of the new eponymous release vaguely features  the abstract image of a red shack nestled in opaque surroundings, but I don’t feel that this is a release that could have been penned and planned alone in a cabin. There is a musical cohesion here that is born out of a group working on the same page and a rhythmic dynamacism that would be difficult to beat out alone, pardon the pretentious punnery.

The album reflects the interesting and diverse musical journey that Justin Vernon has been on since we first heard his heartbroken and weather-beaten voice three years ago. Encompassing the somewhat spooky atmospheric styling’s practiced in his side project ‘Volcano Choir’ to the vo-coded musings that have seen his work popping up in such places as Kanye West’s albums, but at the core is still the genius and honesty of a true warrior poet. This album is more an act of musical exploration than emotional desperation but it still manages to create the same mystical sense of belonging and all the depth of a perfect balance of bitter and sweet that ‘For Emma’ ever did. From a totally different place in their lives Justin and Bon Iver have created something truly magnificent, maybe that mysterious barn is inside of him to draw on that deep loneliness and no matter how far we all come we still carry the weight.  

There is subtle lairing in this music that is understated and hypnotic, the saxophone stylings of Mike Lewis give a haunting holy quality to some pieces that resonates so well with the coarse folk vocal. Each song is named after places, some real and some fictional that delivers the music from a landscape straight out of another place and gives the music a landscape all of its own, this is not a sing-along lyrical album its built upon a deeply personal poetry that bends round music that ranges from the depths of pitch bended folk to pure 80’s power ballad. Justin basks so brilliantly in the bitter but with the personally empowered vision that without this depth of misery we could never experience any joy. This is a love album with more reality and honesty than many people will ever be able to deal with, it addresses feelings of abandoning yourself and giving totally and freely to something that you are fully aware can throw you to the ground mercilessly, it talks of hiding in intoxication and learning from your mistakes by being able to criticise yourself and distract from your own self as a being of ego and become something more pure more holy. These messages are not thrown in your face they are subtlety woven into wording and music that will intoxicate and cure.

I will not be hesitating or feeling concerned at the four months I will have to book in advance to see this group play live in the UK again and will be very happy to be standing there with someone who has taught me so much and forced me to look at myself with a clearer view in an ever complicated world.

“Still alive for you, love”

                                                  Bon Iver – Perth

Plenty more good music been released of late and some long overdue reviews of some albums that have been on heavy rotation in my ears recently and obviously a whole host of ranting warbling amassing in my brain waiting to make it to my fingers before they surely cause an embolism in my brain. Listen to good music, eat good food and love your lives.

In Search Of The Infathomabale

Many of my late night drunkard rants and rampant belligerent scribbling over the years are related to the process of evolution to the point of being accused of racism and fascist barbaric views as I spout selectionism and the survival of the fittest notion that I see segregating a population. I have never been one to bear in mind the possible inferred connotations of a statement before throwing it out there, much more a fan of throwing things up flag poles and seeing who salutes (the nationalist sentiment rearing its head?), I have always been prepared to re-evaluate the notions I hold dear so as to be as bold to say things and then controlled and humble enough to dismiss them and am always aware of new levels of understanding along a path making previous beliefs unfounded yet no less relevant in the process of an idea evolving through this point.

As a species I see that we have reached the point of middle age spread in our evolutionary process we are no longer pushing ourselves forward with the view of survival but are sprawling ever sideward’s with the pursuit of comfort and happiness as our primary goals. What I can’t get my head around is the two dimensional and dumbed down methods we are implementing to try and achieve something while we don’t really understand or appreciate the goal, there is no long term thinking to our acceleration only an immediate quench for our never ending thirst. The Joy doesn’t lie in the knowing all and having all it lies in the yearning, in the beautiful journey. When we are striving we are at our best and as a species we have reached a plateau of complacency in a melodramatic slump.

The alternative, in my humble opinion is a retreat from the material and an evolution of our emotional states to become individually empowered people who measure our success purely on merit not against any tide mark set by others, to become a people who are vital and energetic constantly living the best days of their lives and who are so settled inside the limits and glories of their lives they feel no need to blow their own trumpets. Not adding to the cacophony of desperate needy choruses of self adoration but quietly sitting in the wonder of the whisper of other peoples open love. We would soon learn the deeper meanings in emotion’s that striving towards a notion of bright coloured saccharine happiness is not as rewarding as a path through a kaleidoscope of emotion feeling every one with no exception or exemption will lead to a true appreciation of joy with no need to have it validated or even noticed.

Feeling my emotions like great constellations across the sky, connecting the dots in grand and abstract patterns to create the monument of the heavens. Happy things won’t always make you happy and sad things don’t have to make you sad, the connection between things is never as simple as it seems and cannot be written in stone, it’s as whimsical as clouds and as easy to disconnect as grains of sand falling through our fingers. We have to give up on ourselves to be saved and find ourselves by getting lost.

Well clearly Solstice is coming up and my desire to sing the beauties of the world over the human dominion create this voice inside me that needs to beat drums and celebrate the few pure things we have left, so I’m sure I will get rained on at 4am as a bleak sun rises over a misty skyline and once again I can be refreshed in the knowledge that there are quiet places of being where we can look inside ourselves undisturbed by the trumpet blowing cacophony of the needy masses and we can evaluate ourselves against ancient stone and the life giving power of the sun and see our lives as they are, little more than dust on the wind.

And what better musician to soundtrack this world weary nostalgic melodrama than the new offering ‘Codes & Keys’ by Death Cab For Cutie The me some 5 years ago would have snubbed this music as introspective and wank but like I said we have to re-evaluate the power of emotion and what they can add to the depth of art. This is a very rhythmic album and far less guitar based than previous offerings with the repeated thumping’s of deep piano filling the space with the odd natty little hook that really are quite catchy, I guess that is the love hate appeal of ‘Death Cab’ the large sprawling soundscapes with the repetitiveness that are held together with the crunch of good riffs and some very sound turns of phrase, even if they do come across as a little twee. ‘You Are A Tourist’ is a standout track with a feel good cruising the coast feeling that really captured that feeling in my mind of feeling the happiness in sorrow. The album is a definite entire piece of work with an effortless flow through the pieces making it an enjoyable experience to be immersed in.

Also this week a new offering from the not so young no more scamps ‘Suck It And See’ by The Arctic Monkeys When this band first rose to fame from the depths of the internet to the front page of the NME I was at the centre of the retail industry that pushed them to having the fastest selling debut album to date and was quite taken by their cheeky turn of phrase and hooky riffs that nobody seemed to be able to ignore, 4 albums on and wanting so much to break the American market how can you manage to keep it new and vital without spouting cliché and becoming that little bit too cool for school, how do you escalate yourself to the higher echelons of the rock hierarchy without picking up doubters along the way. This album may have been recorded in the same studio as Nirvana’s ‘Nevermind’ but by people who were only 5 at the time of its release this is a group with younger influences doing all they can to take it all in and make a style of their own. The Northern charm and rough round the edges charm does endear the album to me but the relaxed swagger seems a long way from the jerky snatchyness that first pushed them towards the mainstream. The track ‘Don’t Sit Down ‘Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair’ is much heavier than anything the group has done before and much more like Turners side project Last Shadow Puppets and while the riff will have you head banging for more, lyrically it pushes the boundaries of cringe worthy almost to breaking point. Is this relaxed or is it coolness boarding on lazy, well like the band prompt you too its worth sucking and seeing.

Without lyrical constraints and with an endless soundscape at their disposal is the second release ‘Gloss Drop’ by Battles this band have a sandbox world where they can play with what they will without fear of reprisal and they use this freedom to create edgy infectious and deeply engaging interesting music. Somehow the chaos of all the noise manages to be reined in and kept consistent by an upbeat swagger and some genuine musical genius, layers of sound placed carefully to compliment and create something much bigger than the sum of its parts. The sounds on this album are much less aggressive and jarring than on ‘Mirrored’ that makes the album much more accessible which seems like a strange thing to say for such an unclassifiable maelstrom of musical movements from gritty gothic industrial sounds to an almost carnival feel of steel drums and samba drums. This is a real collage of an album that is a gripping listen with a surprisingly party atmosphere.

More pleasing electric plinkyness with some nice beats on another second outing by self produced self made man ‘Leisure Seizure’ by Tom Vek I will admit to being a little biased in my review here because I have met Tom and had a jolly good drink with him which instantly endears anyone too me but despite that this is once again a very original sound that is unabashed and compelling. The tight drums really form a solid base for the trill keyboards to spike around and Tom to use his lyrical styling’s to tell a down to earth and realistic story, I am drawn in by his honesty and forced to move by the underpinning groove of this high voltage stylish release. Maybe Tom’s first release was ahead of its time and seen as odd but this style has certainly com in vogue and deserves to be filling the floors at Indie disco’s across the land.

So I’m off for now to ponder the meaning of it all some more sitting in a field under the mysterious monoliths surrounded by the best kind of stinking hippies. So look forward to more new age thinking and a new album from the truly brilliant ‘Bon Iver’. Look after yourselves and each other

30 - Entering The Wilderness Years

So I turned 30 and am being forced into embracing maturity in far too many ways and reflecting on all the ways my life has changed and the ways in which I have changed. Many people see birthdays as no different from one another that every year is just another year but I certainly do believe in the importance of milestones and that certain numbers or events can hold specific significance over us to imbibe them with extra gravitas. I can say with some confidence though that age and maturity do not go hand in hand as I am forced to deal with the immaturity of those much more advanced in years than myself. It’s a funny old game this life we lead and the different hands that it deals to people is the wonder that makes us such a diverse and dynamic species but that at times fails to deflect from what arrogant self involved pricks it can make of people. For me embracing the stories and lives of others is what makes us mature, detracting from yourself and realising there are other plains of understanding that are above our own petty needs and desires.  I remember being in middle school and looking at the sixth formers parading around their common room not having to wear the blazer which was making me look so geeky and uncomfortable, sitting in the library discussing UCAS applications and their plans for the future, I was so convinced that they had it all figured out and that when I reached that age my life too would make sense and be filled with a meaningful purpose. On reaching those same UCAS application forms and still feeling geeky and awkward I realised that this notion that I would have made sense of it all by now was far from the case and started to look at those finishing Uni, my elder brother and his friends, listening to their crazy stories of independence and bold shows of individualism and spontaneity, surely these people have it all figured out and that these lives had become full of the purpose I was yearning for, but again at that age I was left disappointed and still no closer to something I still can’t say truly exists. This forward look to a place that looks secure from the distance then feels just as fragile when you teeter on its edge yourself has continued through my years but has now become more comforting than un-nerving.  I have found great peace in my life, a knowledge of myself that I thought I would never have, I still feel geeky and awkward from time to time but maybe that’s just me, maybe that is just my way of dealing with my projection onto the earth. So as each milestone passes without revelation I think I now know that life is a constant revival that we will always be yearning for a higher understanding and I have the humility to hope that I never find it because the truth is really in the journey.

Although I have become distracted from the news of the modern world by long hours and the drama of peoples personal lives it is hard to escape the tirade of coverage and publicised excitement surrounding the royal wedding that will take place in two days time. So does this event fill me with nationalistic pride or send me into a blind rage of Bank holiday based fury. I am very proud to be English and although sometimes spouting the words of a would be Communist Anarchist I am at least intrigued by the Royal family and the sense of reflection they give us into the past magnificence of our nation. The attention and fawning that the Americans feel towards our royals is an indication of their knowledge that there is something lacking from the nation they often tout as being close to perfection and getting one over on the yanks certainly provokes my national pride. My annoyance does come from The governments notion that by making this day a public holiday it is a gift to the nation that will bring us together in shared pride, for as usual I will be hard at work in front of the stove helping to add to the enjoyment of investment bankers and other vacuous fuck-tard’s who will be enjoying their extra day not sitting on their ass looking for new ways to screw the common man. I am not only selfishly thinking of myself or my hospitality industry brethren across the nation but of all the others for whom a bank holiday’s often mean extra work for no extra reward and to add insult to injury have to endure targeted marketing constantly reminding them how much extra fun every other fucker will be having while they slave away, They are probably all sitting around laughing at us gullible mugs. On the whole I am pleased at the attention that we are getting even if it is for something archaic and outdated but I’m sure that on the day I will be cursing the names of every person I see with a smile on their lazy 3 day week smug faces.

I know I am posting this quite a long time since writing it mainly due to the post 30 malaise that I thought would hit really did and I have been left in a quite torrential rain of uncertainty and good old fashioned hiding from your worries with the ever present help of booze. I know that nobody ever really has it fully figured out and that it would be so dull if we did but that doesn’t stop every decision we are forced to make being harder and harder as the gravity of time grow longer and stronger. But before this becomes some sort of speech given as sharing at an AA meeting I must remember the ropes that save me from the pits I throw myself into, maybe my life is just one long quest to compile the saddest playlist of all time or to find the songs that can save me from any misfortune, this week I was greatly helped by ‘Directors Cut’ by Kate Bush always bringing back memories of inappropriate behaviour in low life drinking establishments in Australia this cool seductress pops into my sound waves with an album of exquisite eccentricity and beautifully controlled and poised sensuality. It’s a tour de force for an artist who knows how to use her voice to invoke a reaction that is both visceral and intoxicating. Lyrically tied up in a world all of her own as she always has been the album creates a world that you are left dying to be part of. Essentially these tracks are reworking and rein visioning of earlier pieces recorded in an analogue studio to recapture the eclectically original sound that first made her such an engaging and vital artist but paired down and laid bare for me it is the honesty and compelling nature of the lyrics and the fantastic use of vocal technique that make this release a compelling and engaging listen

More musical elder statesmen returning to the studio to turn out ‘Hot Sauce Committee Part II’ by The Beastie Boys returning from a health scare Ad-Rock, Mike D and MCA return to finish a body of work they started some time earlier and sound as vital poised and cool as they ever have. The sounds are reminiscent of the jazzier In Sounds from Way out but given a gruff dirty sound that sets them apart as dirty funk masters. How these aging hipsters don’t sound ridiculous I don’t know but they don’t possibly due to the humour and tongue and cheek attitude that they have always had towards an industry so full of fakers and people with small musical minds. Passing the mic to ‘Nas’ and delving briefly into a dub sound we see the boys not stuck in their ways without forgetting what endeared them to us in the first place.

That’s all for today folks keeping it short and sweet and trying to keep my head together, the broom cupboards of my life are being cleared out and I am trying to return to a more creative and inspirational place so watch out and keep it vaguely imaginary.

A Higher calling? Taste and Morality

Sometimes it seems as if the world is falling in on itself, and some of those times it gets you to thinking how it doesn’t happen more often, how the complex situations and tenuous bonds that we rely on don’t spiral into chaos on a more regular basis. The world itself seems to be giving us a continuing demonstration of its power over the lives we have built on its vast and varied surface and yet we as a race are still vying for control and are forced into positions where we feel we must risk our lives for the ideals of freedom. Think what you may about the increasing frequency of natural disaster’s spreading their destructive fingers through the world, think Mayan prophecy, think El Niño, think a vengeful god repaying us for our glutinous expansion or just think plain cold hearted bad luck, but please think something, please take stock and let it sink into our brains that maybe all we have isn’t a given and could well be taken away at any minute. Yet no, as a country we still seem resigned to repeating past mistakes and waltzing around another Middle Eastern country under the banner of democracy executing our own special brand of justice for all. Now I’m not pro or con war in general but I am fully against hiding behind one agenda to achieve another, if we want to go back to some good old looting and pillaging taking what we need from the people who have it with the fear of military might to bolster our claim then “fuck the morals does it make any money” but let’s not get in to another complicated deception trying to achieve a supposed good dead while reaping in the benefits through the back door, especially while the people of Libya are speaking of “needing to die for their cause” because that level of devotion to the fight for the most basic of democratic freedoms makes our petty whinging and complaining look pathetic.

From that straight to some whinging of my own which of course is totally pathetic and ultimately still very irritating, my gripe is with taste. Whenever you start a new job there are many things to learn and to get accustomed too, people’s names, where things are, how to make the best coffee and questions of actual work. There is a process of fitting in with the accepted norms of the new place and possibly starting to make your own. It’s easy to forget how the little things make up the feel of a place and how having to deal with something new can be quite a challenge. I am speaking primarily of the stereo. Now in The Three Tuns the little sanctuary of a kitchen Simon and I would always have the radio tuned to ‘Classic FM’, the sounds were inoffensive and filled the room with a comforting noise that would never really draw a line between us never really peak a change to our mood to add any inconsistency to the tone of our work, the same cannot be said for my new place of work. The I-pod dock that looms its musical dominion over the prep area has been an offense to my senses and definitely not a neutral and entertaining comfort. M People at 8am followed by an entire Robbie Williams live at Knebworth and without a hint of irony a “sticking with a live theme” Nickelback concert. Of course there are positives an afternoon making Crab cakes with Coltrane to while away the hours or peeling a sack of spuds with ‘Dub Side Of The Moon’ to help me through, but ohh the inconsistency. Is there such a thing as artistic superiority, I have always believed that there is, that while there are merits in all music we cannot deny that there is a higher artistic pursuit in the music of Radiohead than the approach of Take That, that while Jack Johnson may be bright and breezy he can hardly match the emotional significance of Bill Callahan. Here in lies the problem, music is drawing a line between people rather than being a unifying force, my musical snobbishness forces me to look down at the foolish cretin who just pushed play on James Blunt and they look at me with confused distain when I have finished playing a Frank Zappa album. Maybe the radio is for the best because no matter what rubbish blurts out at least it’s someone else’s fault.

Far from blurting rubbish we see the appearance of the much talked about, raised on the shoulders of the NME release of  ‘What Did You Expect From The Vaccines’ by The Vaccines  with last year’s explosion of Surf-pop/rock who would have thought that a bunch of young Londoners would have a pop and not only succeed but manage to imbibe the release with the sense of English pessimism and fatalistic grumpiness. The album is catchy, very catchy starting with the one minute excellence of ‘Wrekin Bar (RA RA RA)’ we are left pumping our fists in the air and eager for more. There are some lovely turns of phrase in the lyrical style that is honest and quite cheeky while the music manages to draw influence from up-tempo and the more morose end of Punk without seeming cliché. Big shouty choruses and flag waving rhetoric, coming to a summer festival near you.

higher up the bill at those same festivals but I’m sure with a more nonchalant attitude will be these won’t give it up ‘Angles’ by The Strokes  They possibly could be called Indie elder statesmen now but without any of the good charm of growing up or showing any sense of musically moving on. Heralded as the saviours of guitar music some 10 years ago now the band have been bickering and bitching through 4 albums without ever really capturing any of the exciting freshness of their debut while there are brief moments of plinky plonky face grinning loveliness on this album it really doesn’t gel together at all, very little cohesion between the songs and very few new sounds to make us think that these stroppy new Yorkers have anything more to offer. 5 years since your last release and let’s face it you’ve hardly re-invented the wheel, I didn’t hate First Impressions of Earth as much as everyone else seemed too but it would appear my patience has run out.

Coming back from a critical slating with much more swagger are the Canadian miserablists with their new offering ‘Degeneration Street’ by The Dears  after getting the old band back together again after a hacked together version of the band delivered a disappointing last album it seems the united front has learned from past squabbles and are back on form. Being labelled as miserable might not be the greatest accolade but The Dears wear it well and have always been a fan of melodrama and at this album they stretch it to its limits with songs such as ‘Galactic Tides’ a mammoth Muse esque titan of a song that soars higher and higher into the impossible eater but then is brought back down to earth with the uncharacteristic bounciness of the next track ‘Yesteryear’ which tempers the head over heels full on wackiness that they are prone to soar into. The band seems unified and has touches of Springsteen and The E Street Band about them and on a whole is a joy to listen to.

I’d like to finish with a short live review of ‘Elbow’ at The Brighton Centre   I had already laid down the warning to my girlfriend that this is not the most inspirational of venues but with an excellent weekend behind us we headed to the sports cavern with a smile on our faces after all this is the triumphant Elbow and my 14^th time seeing them live. The crowd are most certainly getting older although we do see some unlikely youngsters hanging around. It’s disappointing that we heard one women casting off the support act ‘Villagers’ as teenage angst as it reminds us that Elbow are now in the territory of the Radio one crowd of musical close mindedness, and the last I heard teenage angst didn’t include myopic tales based on ancient Greek myths but there you go. Garvey and the boys take to the stage and it is immediately evident that Garvey’s voice is stronger than ever as he effortlessly delivers ‘The Birds’ the opener from the new album with a charismatic clarity that is him all over. The Banter is great and the show is imbibed with a panto style to and fro between the audience and Garvey who is a natural at setting the tone and speaking of love without making you want to scratch your eyes out. Jutting into the crowd the stage allowed Garvey to interact and make the venue seem small and as Guy and Craig Potter decamped to a piano in the middle of the audience to play ‘Puncture Repair’ and ‘Some Riot’ back to back I could almost forgive them for not playing anything from the first album. This band clearly belongs to the people now but they will always have a special place in my heart.