What's New?: 1.5.2013

The Collectors — self-titled (1967)

Picked this one up on pure whim. Just dug the cover art.  The year of release and the label (that classic green orange and blue Warner logo) told me that it would probably be nice lite-psych if nothing more.  And that's basically what it amounts to.  Great, floating vocal harmonies on the leadoff track 'What is Love?' had me get my hopes up, thinking it was going to be a hidden surprise, but that's probably the album's highlight.  The rest of the album has, like I said, a very "psych lite" tone to it and the only time it gets as close to the pastoral opener is later on side one with 'One Act Play.'  The entirety of side two is taken up by the obligatory psychedelic-era "journey" song 'What Love (Suite).'  It has some good passages —namely the reprise of 'What is Love?' that explodes into a nihilistic, dark psychedelic garage rocker, only to implode into probably the album's prettiest moment, complete with a tenor sax solo atop wondrous harmonies— but generally isn't really worth the whole ride.  Still, a nice find.

Amon Düül II — Carnival in Babylon (1972)

Darn good, in all fact!  I don't know why I wasn't expecting much, but I wasn't.  It has some pretty parts,  some wacky parts and some songs that do a little of everything.  Reminds me very much of the first two or three Yes albums, in fact.  Spacey and pretty, but with a sense that anything can (and will) happen at any point.  Despite all of its "progressivess", there is a very tuneful aspect to this music to where you play it back after three or four full listens and as each songs begins you kind of smile and say to yourself, "Oh yeah, this one's really good too!"  Fun music.  Hard to think of, in retrospect, as "Kraut Rock" though.

Split Enz — Dizrhythmia (1977)

Absolutely peak new wave from a band that I'm finding I have neglected for far too long.  This was Neil's first album with the band and, while Tim has written all the songs (the first Enz album where he was directing the band), Neil receives a credit for mandolin.  Like a boss.  But seriously, it was still Tim's show at this point, but damn this is excellent new wave pop.  Here you go.  Don't like that?  Well, fine, here.  Still not satisfied?  Try this.  Want something besides quirky sounds?  Got you covered: the tranquilly beautiful 'Without a Doubt' and the ballad-turned-rave-up of 'Jamboree' are just what this album needed to push it over into that higher tier of works.  Talk about an album that should be much more renowned than it is.  The whole thing's great and I'm starting to wonder if I might have a new favorite Enz album.  Superb.

Split Enz — Frenzy (1978)

If I'm to understand things correctly, the fourteen track version of this album that I've picked up is the harder to find version, as all of side two contains seven selections from the band's famous Rootin' Tootin' Luton Tapes and the whole version of this album was remixed by the band in 1981.  Neil's first lead vocal on an Enz album is here and it's a good one!  Elsewhere, Tim goes into full piano ballad mode and the results are great, once again.  The dancefloor is considered (and it's a badass tune).  Neil tries to steal the show with a classic-sounding strummer.  The proper album ends with probably the most punk sounding thing the band ever did (courtesy of bassist Nigel Griggs).  Also, whistling!  This album is all over the place, but the tunes are undeniable.  Yay, Split Enz! 

Split Enz — Conflicting Emotions (1983)

Neil has basically taken over by this point, as Tim was focusing on his solo career.  Tim still wrote six of the album's ten songs, but Neil's attempts, admirable as they are, expose that he was probably not ready to lead his own band yet.  'Message to My Girl', though, finds him writing in that whimsically earnest mode that he would manage to make a career out of in Crowded House.  It's a really good one.  Overall, Hugh Padgham's keyboard-heavy production doesn't suit Neil's songs that well, but that one is able to overcome the presentation.  The overly melodramatic 'Our Day' would be a noble failure, in this respect.  On the other hand, Tim's eerie title track benefits because of it.  The production is a bit heavy handed, but the songs (especially from the retrospective view of a Crowded House fan) are pretty alright.  Plus, for those supernerds among us, the album is pressed on dark brown vinyl.  So, while it may appear to be a piece of regular old black vinyl, hold it up to a bright light and you'll be able to see through it partially.  How is that for fun?

The Moody Blues — In Search of the Lost Chord (1968)

Totally "trippy man."  Still, decent tunes and great harmonies.  As far as songs go, nothing here really sticks out all that much, but rather the presentation is the star of the show.  'Voices in the Sky' is probably the best thing here, if you have to have a highlight.  But, honestly, you're better off just listening to the album as a whole.  Pretty clear that's how these songs were meant to be heard.  Could do without all the extra curricular "heady"-ness, but not like all that stuff is to the album's detriment. Still, dollar bin winning.

The Moody Blues —  On the Threshold of a Dream (1969)

This one's alright, too.  It relies just as heavily on track sequence and mood as Lost Chord, but it has a lot more diversity in its actual songs, so that makes a big difference,  Where Lost Chord just has a very pastoral vibe that it gets by on, this one has a similar tone, but the songs, when taken out of that context, are pretty all over the place.  There is one song here that strikes me as an all time classic for the ages: 'Dear Diary.'  Quite rightly.  'Lazy Day' is a bit more whimsical, but has a similar charm.  The album closing suite points the band back towards more headier territory and it's a nice journey, while it lasts.  Good for filling in those moments when I want pure boombast and over the top-edness (with some delicious harmonies to boot).

Various — When I Was a Cowboy: Songs of Cowboy Life, Classic Recordings of the 1920's (1920's)

Indispensable collection of pre-WWII country music.  This is country music in the most classic of definitions, as most of it sounds like what most people would consider folk music by this point.  Have a listen to Jules Allen and decide for yourself.  It sounds like brilliant music to me.  Similarly, Carl Sprague's tales of boiling coffee without grinding it are just pure magic.  Ken Maynard presents a more polite version of the same thing, but his guitar is just about one of the best things ever.  Dick Devall goes completely acapella for a tale of regret.  And the Delmore Brothers have the type of harmonies that I've come to know and love.  Overall, music that's warm as hell and a darn fine introduction to this sort of thing.  Great find.

The Louvin Brothers — My Baby's Gone (1960)

Another Louvin Brothers album and this one is completely secular.  This one finds them in their same produced Capitol Nashville mode, so, looking at the album title, it should be a no-brainer that the songs take on a more typical classic country theme.  Infidelity, unrequited love and lots of regret are the main thing here.  But, along with that bigger Capitol budget comes a different mindset and some of the tunes take on an awesomely almost rockabilly tone that just kicks butt.  But mostly, the harmonies are the star of the show.  Throw in some kickass mandolin and it's a done deal: I love these guys.

~Austin

What's New?: 11.13.2012

Considering the world is about to end, it's a good thing I'm finally all caught up. . .

Richard Dyer-Bennet — self-titled (1956)

Folkways reissue of an initially self-issued album of traditional tunes.  Absolutely wonderful guitar throughout and a really diverse selection of tunes.  He has a way of presenting otherwise kind of bleak songs in a really pleasant, appealing way.  The album closing tune 'Turkish Revery' illustrates this nicely.  The whole album is on Spotify and it's a very engaging and nice listen.  Pretty good for a guy that sounds "prissy" (**smirk**).  #fuckallmusic

Magazine — Secondhand Daylight (1979)

Howard DeVoto was a not a very cheery fellow in these days.  Here's 'Permafrost.'  And yes, he says things that I refuse to repeat here.  But dude, ignoring his obvious social issues, musically this thing just blows Joy Division away, doesn't it?  Have a listen to the epic centerpiece (and probably Magazine's best song overall) 'Back to Nature' and judge for yourself.  Convenient now to recognize just how well they were blending Karftwerk and Roxy Music.  I can honestly say, if I had been there, I would have been a huge fan.  It's not that far ahead of its time, but it's a good two or three years so.  Glammy guitars + angsty lyrics + chilly synths= meet the future.  Bands still want to sound this passionate and fail miserably.  I venture to say it's an era we'll never see again.  Haha, they were contemporaries of Joy Division and people don't care!

Rain Tree Crow — Blackwater EP (1991)

One of the best songs ever gets the single treatment.  Yeah, it's only four tracks (three of which are on the proper album), but any chance I get to talk about this glorious and unfortunately forgotten classic, I'll take.  This long-deleted digipack single is very cool, with a four panel fold-out design and it has the one non-album track the band recorded.  Sure, I've had that song digitally for years.  But it's nice to finally have a hard copy.  If you've never heard the Rain Tree Crow album before, do yourself a favor and check it out.  It's on Spotify in full (with 'I Drink to Forget' appended!).  One of the watershed albums of British post-punk's last days, an important mark in the post-rock landscape and one of my favorite albums of all time.  David Sylvian is god.  RIP Mick Karn.

Andrew Bird — Hands of Glory (2012)

Andrew Bird is my nominee for musical MVP of the year.  As something released late in the year, with little fanfare, after the man has already released one of the year's best albums, a fantastic non-album single and has been on tour for most of the calendar year, it was not expected that he would release another thirty-five minutes of new music this soon.  Yes, there's some covers and a redo (a decidedly reserved and superior take on 'Orpheo Looks Back'), but to say that anything here is lesser or not worthy of inclusion on Break it Yourself would be an out and out lie.  This is just what the band was doing for fun during those sessions and the fact that it's just as resonating, even more folky and even more organic than the full length that birthed these sessions is just magical.  They played this, completely acoustic during the encore when I saw him earlier this year.  It plays up the Americana and theatrical spaghetti western feel that Break it Yourself seemed to imply on songs like 'Three White Horses' and 'When that Helicopter Comes' and there's another long instrumental that's a reprise of 'Three White Horses' and a showcase for Andrew's loop station, one man pocket symphonies.  Magical.  Play it immediately after Break it Yourself: gloriously colorful images of folky, technology-immersed Americana will fill your head.  Jesus christ, how much better can he get?!

Fotheringay — self-titled (1970)

I hate my rating system sometimes.  1 star = bad.  5 stars = good.  But blindly handing out a fiver to albums like this simply does not do them justice.  To understand why this gets the score it does, you need to go out, buy this album.  Look at the cover.  Read the liner notes.  Put it on your headphones, take a walk with it.  That's what I did, and. . . You know what?  I'm good.  I'm just. . . really satisfied right now.  Track one is epic and resonating.  Sandy Denny is god, too.  Alcoholic, flawed god, sure, but is there any other kind?  How can every song she sang be that gorgeous?  And yet, here's pretty much her first album under her own direction.  To say that this is probably the best album I've acquired since HB doesn't even begin to describe how good it is (because, let's face it: people still haven't really understood that one).  Previously, when I thought of "British Folk Rock", I thought Pentangle because that's the best encounter I had had with such a thing (and that itself is not far off from being the best band to ever do it).  But little did I know that there was an entire album as good as those previously only isolated Sandy Denny moments on Fairport albums.  I mean, honestly, this thing not only has some of Sandy's best songs ever, it actually gives me genuine chill-inducing, David Axelrod-esque moments of literal brilliance on 'The Pond and the Stream'.  And then it has 'Banks of the Nile' at the end!  Probably my album of the year, if dates didn't matter.  The best record I've heard in well over a year, at least.  This CD reissue contains four complimentary live tracks.  Any self-respecting music fan should get it immediately.  Even my highest praise does this no respect.  Obviously best ever.

The Louvin Brothers — Satan is Real (1959)

Probably more known for its campy cover art than its actual music, this came to my attention after I realized that the Byrds had covered a song from this album.  And guess what?  It's a darn fine harmony country album.  The title track, with its mid-song sermon, is a bit goofy, but that's pretty much the only tune here that's a misfire.  Just have a listen to the glorious harmonies on songs like 'The Kneeling Drunkard's Plea' or 'I'm Ready to go Home' and bask in their warmth.  The religious aspect doesn't really affect how well the material is played and sung — it would be good regardless.  The whole thing's on Spotify, so check it out.  Fancy guitar tone throughout the entire album as well.

Travis — Closer EP (2007)

Travis b-sides! Yay!  While I anticipate their forthcoming full length with growing impatience, I'll take a couple "new to me" songs any day!  These come from the sessions for Boy With No Name, so as that's one of my favorite albums by the band, my expectations were pretty high.  These two songs are alright.  'The Day Today' is a jubilant strummer, complete with a horn section; passable.  The good one is 'This Love' which, in its first half, sounds like the basis for 'Quite Free' and that's just fun.  One of the band's best choruses, as well.  The second half of the tune develops into a triumphant, fist-pumping, string section-enhanced anthem.  Anybody else wouldn't be able to pull it off, out of lack of sheer sincerity.  Fucking Travis: cornballs that really mean it. 

Belle and Sebastian — Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant (2000)

Apparently, the sessions for this album were exceedingly difficult.  It splintered the band and led its leader to doubt himself for years to follow.  You'd never know that listening to the album's leadoff track.  If this band ever sees a "best of" set, that should be on it.  Where does the album lose its way, you ask?  Well, when Stuart stops directing the band and starts letting it direct itself.  A lot of it sounds like Arab Strap outtakes.  And that makes sense because it followed that album by about eighteen months.  But I'm thinking too deeply about this.  Is it good?  Yeah, definitely.  Kind of in the second tier of the band's overall catalogue, but definitely recommended if you already know you like them.  The lovely 'Waiting for the Moon to Rise' is a memorable one in that regard, while 'Don't Leave the Light On Baby' boasts string and horn charts that would make David Axelrod jealous.  Most of it has a very nice, unremarkable jangly backdrop that goes down easily, but doesn't really leave a lasting impression.

Belle and Sebastian — The Life Pursuit (2006)

In which our protagonists go exceedingly twee and seem obsessed with noticeably faster tempos and keyboards.  Not bad, obviously, but in retrospect, it very much feels like a prototype for the near perfection of the formula.  Otherwise catchy numbers like 'White Collar Boy' and 'For the Price of a Cup of Tea' seemed dragged down by such heavy handed arrangements.  When an actual vintage jangly strummer does pop up, it's pretty darned great and sticks out fairly easily because of its surroundings.  Damn good song.  There is a serious slant here towards purposely "retro" sounding arrangements and that's a gift and a curse.  Because, while the band is very good at sounding like a 60's pop act, it feels a little cheap for them to be so derivative when they had previously been so good at being unique, despite their obvious influences.  I'm mixed on this one, overall.  But it's still Stuart and the gang and it's still decent, in the larger scheme.  Nice to finally have a hard copy of it.

Fairport Convention — What We Did On Our Holidays (1969)

Obvious classic is obvious.  The album begins with 'Fotheringay' which has got to be one of the most beautiful songs ever written.  The longingly romantic way Sandy sings it, the subtle harmonies — absolute perfection.  Elsewhere, they totally own a Bob Dylan song and then Richard Thompson and Sandy duet on one of the defining songs in folk rock.  Again, my rating system sucks when it comes to albums like this.  It's purely transcendent music that will endure past most things and just get better with age.  Will be listening to this album regularly for many years to come.  Outstanding.

~Austin