Crescent moon and pink clouds amidst a peaceful July sunset.

Looking west. It only lasted for about ten minutes (if that). This has been the first evening in weeks that wasn't completely windy.





I've been listening to Kate Bush's Hounds of Love album nonstop lately. It's in the process of changing the way I think. Stunning, magnificent and gorgeous music. I'd like to think these shots are a good accompaniment to that.

~Austin

Old Reno: Eighth Street

If you look at any current street maps of Reno, you'll have a hard time locating West Eighth Street. That's because it currently only runs for one block between Virginia and Sierra streets just north of I-80.

Here is a Google Map of the current West Eighth Street:

View West Eighth Street in a larger map

However, it wasn't always like that, as I see every time I walk to the grocery store:


This is now the intersection of Washington Street and University Terrace (University being old West Eighth Street). This is a four-way stop intersection at the northwest corner of Whitaker Park, roughly six blocks west of the current West Eighth Street. There's only one set of street signs at the intersection, on the east side of Washington Street, across from where the pavement is marked:


Just a little piece of Reno history.

And a bit of food for thought: even things that are literally set in stone may not always be forever.

~Austin

The Trash Can Sinatras — In the Music

Because of their sporadic release schedule throughout their career, the Trash Can Sinatras are perhaps inherently relegated forever to cult status. Sure, the albums may not come on a regular schedule. But the band's ability to make thoroughly unified and consistent affairs every time out is what sets them apart. And this also explains why In the Music —only their fifth proper album in just under twenty years— is sure to delight longtime fans.

After A Happy Pocket, the band disappeared for eight years and returned triumphantly in 2004 with Weightlifting. Even though Weightlifting was mostly a very mellow, adult contempo affair, its title track was a superb update of their vintage jangly sound that managed to uplift and provide a breath of fresh air, establishing the band as a unique force that was able to endure past a venerable point in guitar rock. That's the funny thing, really: as much as they were lumped in with the post-Smiths jangle scene, they never really fit into any specific mold. Sure, their very first single 'Obscurity Knocks' (1989) is pretty much a jangle classic, but then songs from their gloriously diverse second album (1993's I've Seen Everything) like 'Hayfever' and 'Orange Fell' were played at nearly shoegazing levels. They've always been mostly a mellow band, but when Weightlifting came out, enough time had passed for the album to sound less like a complete jolt of slow pretty guitar AOR material and more like the natural progression of a band that had grown up and out of the scene in which it began.

The production techniques of their first three albums firmly aligned them with the jangle and Brit pop scenes, but when the time came to record Weightlifting, the band wisely chose a more immediate, intimate and decidedly modest presentation for their songs. The jangly guitars, Frank Reader's undeniably expressive and strong vocals, the brief rushes of symphonic accompaniment, the downright relateable catchiness of the material, it all supposed an interesting thing that was previously hidden in their music but now made complete sense: they sounded an awful lot like a 70's soft-rock band (in a good way). And this sound is explored even further on their latest album, In the Music. The whole thing has a bit more a labored-over feeling to it, as there are more keyboards, a few more big symphonic crescendos, breezing distortion-free spacious guitar solos and an overall feeling of in the studio, organic perfection.

The Fender Rhodes twinkles on 'I Wish You'd Met Her', the blue-eyed soul leanings of the title track, and yes, even the Carly Simon feature (no, seriously!) on 'Should I Pray?' all conjure up images of the artfully constructed and emotionally genuine pop music that reached its apex in the early and mid 70's with things like America, Fleetwood Mac, the David Crosby and Graham Nash duo albums and Cat Stevens. In the Music doesn't really feel like a conscious revival of that sort of thing as much as it does a genuine point at which the band has arrived after years of honing their sound (indeed, 'Prisons' is as close as they come to their old sound here, and yet it fits right in with this material; fully illustrating the natural progression). Frank Reader sounds vocally as good as ever and his raspy croon lends itself well to this material and on songs like the title track or the epic 'Oranges and Apples,' he sounds so good, you'd swear that he's been waiting twenty years to sing this stuff.

Everything here jangles just as much as their old material, but it's always offset by some sort of keyboard or echo-heavy arpeggio that dips the music into a breezy sea of warmth. And that's one thing that really stands out here: despite all of the obvious production, this is just about the most personal the Sinatras have ever sounded. There is an undeniable warmth to the material that preempts any sort of distance that overproduction might have, under other circumstances, threatened to ruin the whole thing. On the contrary, the even lusher musical backing only enhances the resonance.

So, if they're willing to keep up this trend of five year breaks between albums only to release absolutely classic-sounding and indisputably strong pop music, I'm all for it. They've reached that point where the scene they spurted out of (perhaps on a fluke) is long dead so any allegiance to any sound is non-existent and, consequently, they've been provided that rare chance to pursue a self-satisfying and listener-rewarding sound on their own terms.

A welcome return.

And an addendum: In the Music was initially available dang near a year ago as a ludicrously priced import, so I held off. It finally saw domestic release about a month ago and the American version adds eight bonus tracks (almost doubling the album's running time!) from a 2009 acoustic live performance. The performances are great and include at least one song from all of their albums up to and including Weightlifting. It's not really a complimentary piece to In the Music, but it's better served as its own entity entirely. Not sure what the motive behind such a big helping of seemingly unrelated bonus material was, but I'm glad they included it!

~Austin

Roddy Frame's solo albums.

Ok, so as a huge Aztec Camera fanatic, I have absolutely no excuse for not having every single Roddy Frame album within days of its respective release. But, being as the North Star and Western Skies are still import only, I was less than enthusiastic about paying those hefty import prices right away. I know, I know... my fandom should've overcome such seemingly irrelevant things as pricetag, but a budget is a budget, bottom line. Well, I recently completed my catalogue of his three solo albums, so here are some extended thoughts on each....

The North Star (1998)


After Frestonia's uncharacteristic and misguided attempts at adult contempo soft rock radio stardom, the North Star is like the next proper Aztec Camera album after Dreamland. It's the same sort of midtempo jangle rock, but the songs here are actually considered as full pieces of artistic representation. In other words, Roddy actually sounds like he cares about what the session players are doing with his songs this time around. And that's the weird thing here: the songs are pretty much in the same vein as Frestonia, but the band plays them here like they actually matter. Frestonia had some excellent tunes, but they were drown out by schlock and awful overplaying. On the North Star, the songs are noticeably toned down and played in the purposely low-key mode that Roddy seems to have finally come to the realization that his songs should be played in all the time. It's a genius move. The tunes are of the middle calibre of Roddy Frame's accuracy. Consistently good compared to anyone else, but sort of crowd-pleasing and unsurprisingly adequate for longtime fans. But, because of the newly rediscovered sparse 'as it is' presentation of the songs, it sounds like a mini-revelation. Like Roddy's just gotten over his entire bout with A&R people and producers for good and this album was the first thing he was able to do free of their (in hindsight) negative influence. The downplaying of everything here is an all around plus. For the first time in several albums, Roddy genuinely sounds like he's having fun and that makes for fun listens even on songs that aren't that interesting. This shines through in the pronounced optimism of the material, especially on the single 'Reason for Living.' As far as other highlights, the one-two combo of the album's opening tracks ('Back to the One' and the title track) is just about as good as it gets here. Jangly, catchy and completely sincere, both songs are exemplary of Roddy Frame at his best. It's just one of those undeniably strong albums that isn't an out-and-out masterpiece, but whose enduring melodies and modest spirit make the twentieth listen infinitely better than the first or second. Definitely a feel good album. And the sparse closing track ('Hymn to Grace') is a great preview for his next move.

Surf (2002)


Well, here it is. Easily his best work since Stray and Dreamland (and maybe even since Knife). It was Roddy's first true 'solo' album, as he performed everything you hear. He wrote the songs, he sang the words and he played the acoustic guitar. Isn't this what all those stuffy NME folks would've loved to have all of their readers believe he was capable of back in 1984? Make no mistake, friends, I friggin' love this album like few other things. The pronounced and consistent love of music that is addressed at several points throughout the album's lyrics is just awesome and I can completely relate because I internalize music to an unhealthy degree, so it's nice to hear my feelings vaguely mirrored in such an intimate, immediately resounding setting. But ignoring all that highfalutin heady hogwash, these are truly some of Roddy's best tunes ever. Stripped down to their barest of essentials, the melodies flourish and the performances feel like near perfection. His skills as a guitarist and captivating singer are finally given the spotlight they deserved all along and the record is all the better for it. A song like 'I Can't Start Now' is not only a beautifully aching ballad, but a true listen and consideration of the lyrics reveals Roddy at arguably his peak. There is an unmistakable sense to the whole thing of personal revelation. And I know it was completely cliche for the 'all acoustic' album to indicate some sort of (perhaps forced) poignancy by 2002, but Roddy actually pulls it off with Surf (even though I truly doubt his integrity would have let him subscribe to such a philosophy by this point; perhaps further enhancing the album's seemingly unending earnest appeal). I can't say enough good about it, honestly. It's just wonderful music from a musician that feels like he has fulfilled his complete potential for the first time in over a decade. Every song here is damn near perfect and fans of heartfelt music will have a hard time not loving it. The more I listen to it, the more I fall in love with it. Exceptional.

Western Skies (2006)


That subtle, but unmistakable, grin that graces the cover art is actually very representative of this album and, in the bigger picture, where Roddy Frame has arrived at as a singer and songwriter. He was 42 when Western Skies was released and, despite his voice still awesomely sounding like 22, with the pronounced wrinkles and slight shades of grey hair, he finally looks like something: a wise elder statesman that can just bang out some modest little genuine tunes for his modest little genuine fanbase every two or three years. Make no mistakes, Western Skies is a no nonsense affair. Great tunes, humbly presented and no real surprises, but good lord, is it satisfying as hell for a longtime fan. Sparse, three or four piece arrangements are par for the course here and the tunes overall may not even be his best, but damned if they don't all sound great right away. The presentation is perhaps the most appropriate ever for a Roddy Frame-performed album. There is one downright surprise here: 'Marble Arch' is a straight bossa nova tune. And it's awesome. Completely unexpected and surprisingly on the mark, I love it wholly. Elsewhere, the title track is the sort of yearning minor key alt-pop tune that sounds exactly like the sort of thing Roddy should be doing at this point, while the mini-epic 'Rock God' is probably the most ambitious he's been in quite some time. Truly, there's not a bad song in the bunch and even though it may not be his most diverse material, it's the sort of jangly modern update of the classic Aztec Camera sound that transcends expectations and feels like the midlife revelation that it probably is. It often sounds like the most content album he's ever made. Flippin' satisfying as all get-out.
EDIT: Free outtakes from the album! Holy piss, he loves me as much as I love him!

And there it is. Probably infamous for his inconsistency by the time he released the North Star, I find it more than a little ironic that he waited until he was releasing albums under his own name to get completely and truly dependable. Aztec Camera's catalogue is notoriously up and down, to the point that, by the time he released the North Star, nobody but the hardest of hardcore were paying any attention. And that's a shame because the (so far) three albums he's released under his own name have been —maybe a bit surprisingly— undeniably good and consistent. By this point, after hearing and truly assessing these albums in the grand scheme of Roddy Frame, the same guy that did all those Aztec Camera albums, they are nothing like a musician simply going through the motions. On the contrary, these albums are the work of a musician that has truly found inner happiness and peace as a person.

Of course, if your name is Roddy Frame, that translates to mean that, to your small and loyal fanbase, you're seemingly getting better.

Wonderful stuff.

Here's to a new album sometime soon.

(which is to say: new album soon, please?)

~Austin

FYI

Comment moderation has now been turned on.

In the future, new comments will need to be cleared by me before they appear.

~Austin