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January 2021 = |
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Dead Sea Apes /
Adam Stone / Black Tempest |
Paisel |
Shit &
Shine |
Wobbler |
The
fellowship of Hallucinatory Voyagers |
I Go To Sleep
comp |
Big
Scenic Nowhere |
Dean
McPhee |
Songs
of the Green Pheasant |
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DEAD
SEA APES / ADAM STONE /
BLACK TEMPEST - DATALAND
(LP from Cardinal Fuzz Cardinal
Fuzz — Home (bigcartel.com)
and Feeding Tube Records https://feedingtuberecords.com
)
Together with arthritis, forgetfulness and growing irascibility (house!),
it’s a sure sign of advancing years when it
seems like only yesterday that Manchester(ish)’s
Dead Sea Apes and Godalming’s Black Tempest
(Stephen Bradbury) released their stunningly
good The
Sun Behind The Sun collaboration. In
truth, it’s been seven long years, since when
both contributed to our Paper
Leaves compilation and played one or other
Woolf Music shindig, in what surely qualifies
them as Terrascopic nobility - the marquises of
the marquees. Seven long years? Time to scratch
that itch, then..
Dataland
reprises the partnership, courtesy of a Covid
curfew-enforced exchange of internet files.
Sonar bleeps supply the outriders to the
metronomic ambient synths and precision drumming
of ‘Lost Hours’ – the word ‘Kosmische’ springs
to mind and lodges there – with third member of
the triumvirate and regular DSA contributor Adam
Stone intoning like an inconsolably depressed
John Cooper Clarke, his dystopian observations
leaden with boredom and couched in flat earth,
deadpan delivery. This, already, is a cybernetic
and really quite bleak take on DSA soundscapes,
with Steve Bradbury’s synths contributing a
jagged, more rhythmic edge than the mainly
ambient washes that were his hallmark of The
Sun
Behind The Sun.
‘Time To Eat Again’ simultaneously
swaggers and staggers through a slough of
despond, powered by a gloriously dirty chug that
would push Massive Attack’s ‘Angel’
to a split decision and be considered
unlucky if it didn’t receive the nod. A
dub-scarred ‘Shop Soiled’ offers a tantalisingly
fleeting reminder of Brett Savage’s guitar lines
from DSA’s early ‘Soy Dios’ period, with Stone
again plumbing the depths of disconsolation, yet
conveying more animated frustration in what,
under normal conditions, might just be
discernible as a chorus. The title track tackles
the mindlessly repetitive official data
harvesting, in which many of us have been gladly
complicit in our browsing habits and social
media activities, in a post-modern take on
Chaplin’s ‘Modern Times’
and it’s finally left to the sublimely
sinister and totally topical ‘Empty Street’ to
re-write the Book of Revelations and deliver the
most unremittingly bleak eight or so minutes
imaginable; a jaw-dropping, nerve shredding,
top-notch soundtrack to these end of days.
While it would have been understandable, indeed forgivable if, in the
circumstances, they’d just dusted off and buffed
up The Sun Behind The Sun this is a very different and altogether more
dangerous beast indeed. Bradbury’s synths aside,
it’s Stone’s lyrical and narrative contribution,
together with a more metallic and focused Dead
Sea Apes that makes Dataland
seem less of an improvised cosmic jam and more
like men on a message. This, then, is 2020; the
sound of the streets, maybe even The Streets, in
lockdown, a Kraftwerk for the Just Eat
generation, when even the all-night garage has
been forced to shut up shop. There’s a theory,
to which I heartily subscribe, that if you’re
susceptible to low mood then getting keel-hauled
by melancholy music is a damn site more
effective in bringing you out the other end than
forced jollity, in which case this could be the
vaccine you’ve been waiting for. Miserabilism
rarely sounded so compelling or indeed so good.
Happy daze.
(Ian
Fraser)
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PAISIEL
– UNCONSCIOUS DEATH WISHES
(LP
from
Rocket Recordings Paisiel
(bandcamp.com))
Drumming sensation João Pais Filipe has already helped
serve up one of your scribe’s favourite releases
of this otherwise Annus Horriblis, namely Faca
de Fogo with the (al)mighty Gnod (Terrascope
Reviews
for July 2020), and which currently occupies a
place up in the nosebleeds on this year’s
personal Best of the Worst of Years list. Well
he’s in danger of pulling it off again on the
strength of this latest corker, this time with
saxophonist Julius Gabriel as Paisiel; elements
of their respective names making up the band
title and which also means something about a
guardian angel – goodness knows we’re in need of
one these days.
Unconscious
Death
Wishes comprises one long, eponymous piece punctuated by the irksome
requirement for minimal manual labour that
involves “flipping over” (I’ve tried training
the cats, honest). We’re eased in gently
courtesy of an emerging drone and a hymnal organ
redolent of Cirrus Minor-mode Floyd or Atomic
Rooster’s intro to ‘Severn Lonely Streets’, to
the accompaniment of far-off, soaring bird
calls. Just as you are aligning your spiritual
focus, jungle fever gradually kicks in; the
sound of distant drumming creeping ever closer
to front-of-mix; the bird calls now identifiably
human if somewhat lupine in quality. Hereafter,
Filipe’s inspired percussion lays down a
breathtaking beat-fuelled foundation for
Gabriel’s expressive blowing, which although
centred on a mostly limited range of scales, is
delivered energetically and eloquently. The
results are hypnotic, hyper-intense, voodoo
ceremony meets Rio carnival, fired by frantic,
arm-sapping, locked-in rhythms and which ends,
as it began, with a drone albeit one more
abrasive and emotionally raw this time.
Exhausting and exhilarating, and what a long,
strange trip it’s been, as they might have said
once.
(Ian
Fraser)
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$HIT
AND $HINE – MALIBU
LIQUOR STORE
(LP
from
Rocket Recordings Shit
and Shine (bandcamp.com))
Listening to the prodigious and prolific Craig Clouse’s twisted brand of
uneasy listening often feels like you’re sitting
on the razor’s edge seat of a particularly
uncomfortable racing bike with dodgy brakes and
pointing down a sharp screed slope. His latest
Rocket release (they and Riot Season appear to
have shared custody of the Texan’s UK output) Malibu Liquor Store is akin to one of those American road trip
documentaries voiced by the likes of Rich Hall,
but one that’s available only on subscription
(the price being your soul) via the murky
recesses of the dark web. Speak fiend and enter.
Clouse’s creative utilisation of stumbling rhythms and devilishly twisted
electronic noise and samples proves that, with
imagination and skilful application, it is
possible to keep reinventing yourself within
some fairly limited parameters without sounding
forced or repetitive. Accordingly, each of these
eight cuts has an identity of its own, starting
with the title track which is a free jazz and
dubstep cocktail take on krautrock. ‘Rat Snake’
is a mutant horror; a slithering and skittering
shamanistic desert blues, while the frenetic,
electronic leaps and lurches of ‘Sheriff of
Yates Hill’ takes Grid’s ‘Swamp Thing’ to the
next umpteen levels of weirdness, complete with
warped cavalry bugle calls. Nurse! My Beta
Blockers, now!
The shuffling, sinister ‘Cream Tea’ takes the trip intensity down just a
notch whereas the truncated, tumbling Tropicana
of ‘Chervette’, if not quite the real (Van)
McCoy, still manages to do the hustle, kind of.
An elongated ‘Hillbilly Moonshine’ scratches the
itch for four-to-the-floor motorik, but, even
so, it’s not long before it too starts tripping
over its feet as the ‘shroom ‘shine takes hold
and the dancing gets messier. Entering the final
quartile, the comparatively fleeting ‘Devil’s
Backbone’ feels like the soundtrack to a carpet
bombing, while ‘Barbara and Woodrow’ sounds for
all the world in these times of post-apocalyptic
rehearsal as a virally mutated mash-up of
Zappa’s ‘Watermelon in Easter Hay’ and an
instrumental out-take of ‘Lucille Has Messed My
Mind Up’. It
also brings us back down into the room following
a genuinely disturbing psychedelic listening
experience. A wiser person might think twice
about partaking of this stuff again, but then
you know that old adage about there being no
fool like an old one, so I’m going in again.
If you’ll excuse the use of some old Norman French, this is pretty fucked
up, which also more or less sums up what I did
when I neglected to reserve my vinyl copy.
Shucks!
(Ian
Fraser)
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WOBBLER
–
DWELLERS OF THE DEEP
(LP/CD/Digital
on Karisma
Records)
Not
long ago I saw on social media that there was an
affection out there for some of the classic Yes
LPs within our community.
Coincidentally, I’d just heard this new
release from the Norwegian band Wobbler.
Wobbler’s been around since the late
nineties and Dwellers of the Deep is their fifth
album. Their
fans would tell you they reached prog Valhalla
with their last album, 2017’s ‘From Silence to
Somewhere,’ and had a towering bar to reach for
this new one. I’ll
let you be the judge, but I’m thoroughly sold.
From
the off, Wobbler’s similarities to ‘The Yes
Album – Fragile – Close to the Edge’ period Yes
are uncanny. OK,
I’ll throw in ‘Relayer,’ too.
They’re anchored by keyboardist Lars
Fredrik Frøisle’s
Hammond, Mellotron and Moog artillery and
Kristian Karl Hultgren’s bass playing, which
bears an incredible likeness to Master Squire’s
hurtling freight train.
Singer/guitarist Andreas Wettergreen Strømman
Prestmo (my next child, grandchild or pet,
whichever comes first, will bear this name) can
sound at times very much like Jon Anderson, and
other times not.
The
four songs on Dwellers of the Deep are all
extended journeys of the mind and ears.
Naturally it’s a concept album, with the
theme of the internal workings, shades and
conflicts of the mind.
The nearly 14-minute leadoff track “By
the Banks” is full of precision playing,
dizzying shifting time signatures and
instrumental virtuosity.
Led by Frøisle’s
serious Hammond mastery, it’s a tour de force.
But then, they all are.
“Five
Rooms” is my favorite, and features lovely
Mellotron and vocals, plenty of key and tempo
changes, as well as some of Frøisle’s
gnarliest
keyboard acrobatics leading a high-speed chase
somewhere. That
the rest of the band can keep up is a credit to
their extreme tightness and professionalism.
By
this time, over 22 minutes in, guitarists Marius
Halleland and Prestmo have been noticeably
low-key. That
all changes with the brief-by-comparison and
beautiful ballad “Naiad Dreams.”
Featuring classical acoustic guitars,
Mellotron, and plaintive melody and harmony
vocals, for once it reminds me more of Steve
Hackett and Genesis, and it’s all good.
This
all sets the stage for the 19-minute epic “Merry
Macabre.” Here,
Wobbler pulls out every magic trick in their
considerable collection.
It’s all here, drama, pathos, attack, and
adventure. Guitarists
Halleland and Prestmo are now fully charged and
out front of the ensemble.
And keyboardist Lars Fredrik Frøisle,
heretofore sticking mostly to organ and
Mellotron, hauls out the big guns and adds piano
and an explosive plethora of synthesizer colors.
It's
always a judgement call what to think when an
artist is as close to a beloved canon as Wobbler
is to Yes. I
say don’t overthink it and enjoy it for what it
is. Wobbler
are obviously all highly skilled writers and
musicians, and one heck of a tight outfit.
They give a fresh bite of a delicious
fruit. Dwellers
of the Deep should give all a warm feeling and a
highly enjoyable ride, as well as a new
catalogue to explore if you’re unfamiliar.
(Mark
Feingold)
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THE
FELLOWSHIP OF
HALLUCINATORY VOYAGERS – THE IMAGINARY GALLERY
(LP/CD
on
FRG Records)
Despite
the challenges of isolation, lockdowns, travel
restrictions and many other obstacles planted
firmly in the way of the normal creative process
of making and recording music, Sendelica and
their collaborators embraced the wizardry of the
internet with gusto during 2020 and delivered a
series of fine releases in the guise of newer
projects, The Isolated Psychedelicists, The Lost
Stoned Pandas and the now well established, The
Fellowship of Hallucinatory Voyagers (well it
must be hallucinatory as actual voyages have
been severely restricted since March 2020). ‘The
Fellowship’ has grown into something much more
than a Sendelica side project and has its own
personality and sense of musical adventure as
demonstrated through some fine live and studio
releases to date.
‘The
Imaginary Gallery’ is the result of a
collaboration with painter Rhiannon Jones who
was initially given some pieces of music for her
to paint an interpretation of what she heard and
indeed imagined. The deed was repaid with some
additional oil paintings for which a musical
interpretation was sought. The result is brought
together in this fine record, which comes with a
booklet of the paintings so you can immerse
yourself in the music and images or indeed use
them to inspire your own flights of the
imagination (hallucinatory or otherwise).
There
are eleven pieces, mostly under five minutes in
length and as such we are moving away from the
long form explorations that we’ve come to expect
from the Fellowship. Things get underway with
‘The Swynol Doorway’ where over a dense
undergrowth of environmental sound and field
recording, a gentle guitar melody and delicate
electronics glide and shimmer serenely and
rather beautifully. ‘Dancing With Waves’ is
essentially a guitar soli outing with a few
subtle embellishments and it conjures up a real
whiff of the sea air in its spacious, reflective
tone. ‘The Last Road Home’ bounces with echo
from simply strummed guitar and minimalist
melodies with a gentle warp and dissonance in
its slightly off kilter timing and overlays. It
has a fragile, melancholic feel that is
intensified by sparse strings and electronics
adding colour albeit subtle shades of grey.
‘Excalibur’ is more brooding and sets a darker
feel through the sparse Kosmische imbued guitar
where layers of melody weave, repeat and echo to
create a spacious and yet complex soundworld
that could easily be extended into a longer form
piece. ‘Mushroom Lake’ matches more spacey
guitar styles with birdsong that produces a kind
of pastoral kosmische with a darker, suspenseful
edge that has a very cinematic quality and
‘Martian Twilight’ continues this filmic feel
with its insistent acoustic riff and snatches of
soloing all wrapped up in an electronic drone.
‘The High Heeled Enchanted Path’ is short,
subdued and elegant before in ‘Brood Sea’ we get
our first clatter of drums in a gently
progressive rocker that raises the tempo and
actually brings to mind the lighter side of Rush
jamming with Gordon Giltrap in its feel and
sound. Lovely wave sounds colour ‘ The Moon and
the Mermaid’ which returns to a more laid back
and reflective sound before a darker feel once
again emerges in ‘Before the Storm’ where more a
more dramatic and dense space rock theme spells
out the violence of impending weather in its
jagged riff and soaring solo notes. Finishing
the record is ‘What Planet Are We On?’, a
question many of us may have asked over the past
9 months or so on a daily basis. Here the
fellowship treat us to a fractured riff and a
satisfyingly noisy squall of guitar soloing from
which they make their exit.
This
record is a further welcome step along the
fellowship’s hallucinatory highway. It’s a very
visual sound with strong themes such as the
elements and the sea and hints of Americana,
Kosmische and the soundscapes of Harold Budd or
Bill Nelson help to create quite a canvas. Where
a bigger, space rock or prog based sound comes
through it feels like the right time and the
right place and it doesn’t outstay its welcome
or upset the balance of the record. This may be
the best journey you can have without getting
fined so pack your hallucinatory bags and go do
it folks.
(Francis
Comyn)
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VARIOUS
ARTISTS – I GO TO SLEEP (LP/CD
on Morning Brake Records. Contact BigDaveTrending@gmail.com
for details and orders)
Now
here’s a novel idea, or at least a record that
comes in part from a book and the social media
conversations around it. ‘I Go To Sleep’ written
by Ray Davies is one of the canon of great songs
that cement his reputation as one of the major
songwriters to emerge from the sixties. Its
gorgeous melancholy has provided inspiration for
many covers over the years, most notably perhaps
the hit version by The Pretenders but also
myriad other takes from Peggy Lee to Zero 7 and
many other brave souls. When Andy Bracken during
the process of writing his novel ‘The Cut’ asked
a question about a song that resonated with
people and perhaps could inspire obsessive
record collecting many responses were received.
One in particular however stood out which
suggested this song for its individual
loveliness but also the poignant circumstances
of personal family tragedy and loss that
motivated the suggestion.
This
is Andy’s first foray into making records
through his Morning Brake imprint but many
readers will be aware of Andy’s previous
involvement in the early days of Fruits de Mer
Records. So as a result we now have this
extended play lathe cut record with five very
different covers of ‘I Go To Sleep’ for the
listener to compare, contrast and most
importantly enjoy.
The
opening track goes to The Lounge Bar Orchestra
with an arrangement based on easy listening and
exotica with a touch of psychedelic pop
sensibility, filmic elegance and thankfully more
than enough inventive instrumental touches and
flourishes in the arrangement to be firmly on
the side of Esquivel rather than kitsch. Sarah
Birch takes a relaxed approach to the song that
embraces its melancholy but adds warmth in the
brass arrangement and gentle jazz infused waltz
stylings whilst also maintaining a general feel
of smart sixties pop. I was reminded of the way
that The Unthanks have interpreted some songs
here which is a good thing. The Blue Giant Zeta
Puppies take the drama and energy up a notch or
three on their take with gothic psych pop energy
from the sixties and the early eighties in
abundance and an almost Phil Spector and the
Banshees feel which also had me thinking ‘Is Vic
There?’ Schizo Fun Addict create a decadent and
luxurious yet melancholy dream pop elegance on
their version with a rich, atmospheric sound
that sways and swoons and dives deep into 4AD
loveliness. The final version is delivered by
The Lost Stoned Pandas who ramp up the psych and
space rock heaviness and it does indeed travel
the spaceways a little but always comes back
home to the melody and never loses sight of the
song structure.
This
is an interesting and entertaining idea with a
varied and imaginative collection of cover
versions. Five is probably enough for one record
but they are well chosen, well delivered and
well worth your attention. If you were ever
minded to obsessively collect a song this is a
pretty good place to start and possibly stop but
don’t blame me if it leads to an empty wallet
and many restless hours on Discogs.
(Francis Comyn)
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BIG
SCENIC NOWHERE – LAVENDER BLUES EP
(LP/CD/Digital
on Heavy
Psych Sounds Records)
Desert
Rock/Stoner band Big Scenic Nowhere is still
relatively new, having been formed in 2019 by
Bob Balch of Fu Manchu (guitar, bass) and Gary
Arce of Yawning Man (guitar).
But in their so far short existence,
they’ve been mighty busy, having already
released the EP ‘Dying on the Mountain’ in 2019
and LP ‘Vision Beyond Horizon’ in January 2020,
before this terrific 23-minute EP.
For
Lavender Blues, as in the previous releases,
Balch and Arce have surrounded themselves with
some ace players, including Tony Reed (Mos
Generator; vocals, bass, guitar, synths); Bill
Stinson (Yawning Man; drums); Per Wiberg
(ex-Opeth; synths, piano); Daniel Mongrain
(Voivod; guitar); and Chris Goss (Masters of
Reality; guitar).
That’s a lot of guitarists, and it shows.
To
say Big Scenic Nowhere excels at setting a
desert/stoner vibe would be a massive
understatement.
The 13-minute title track – by far the
highlight of the EP - settles into a groove
positively dripping with atmosphere, and all
those guitars and synths resonate amongst the
sand and cactus.
The guitars sizzle – these guys are super
musicians – while the keys fill in a sound scape
that’s more like a desert sunset full of
deepening colors than a noon-day blaze.
The song takes its time and works its
magic and you won’t want it to stop, even at 13
minutes. And
in case you were wondering but I’m sure you
weren’t, it bears no relation whatsoever to the
17th century English folk song and
nursery rhyme “Lavender’s Blue (Dilly Dilly),”
which was recorded many times and was a hit for
Burl Ives back in 1948.
Just wanted to clear that one up.
Second
track “Blink of an Eye” is more in a classic
rock style. The
riffology rings out true, and Tony Reed was born
to be a rock and roll singer.
There are some great, compact guitar and
synth solos to round out the song.
Closer
“Labyrinths Fade” again embraces classic rock,
fusing it with Big Scenic Nowhere’s desert vibe.
It’s a stretched-out cruiser, all tricked
out with some seriously pro shredding.
I wish I could tell you who the axe man
was and give credit where credit’s due, amongst
all those superb guitarists, but unfortunately I
can’t. Tony
Reed again kills it on vocals.
Even
though it’s been a busy year-plus for Big Scenic
Nowhere, with one album and two EPs, I still
hope they’re planning another full LP sometime
soon. And
although Lavender Blues is an EP following up an
album (Vision Beyond Horizon), it’s better than
the LP, IMHO. This
band’s on the move upwards.
They can space-groove, they can jam, they
can write good songs, and they can bring in some
real heavy hitters to help, all with consummate
professionalism.
Finally, a shout-out’s in order to Max
Loeffler for his excellent cover artwork.
(Mark
Feingold)
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DEAN
McPHEE – WITCH’S
LADDER (LP/CD
on Hood
Faire
Records/Cargo
Records)
The
South Pennines and indeed the North of England
are blessed with a rich culture and history
that’s ingrained in its dramatic and mystery
filled landscapes and towns and villages but
also in a wealth of stories, poetry and music
that tell the tales of people and places from
distant yesteryears and the here and now. Now I
may have mentioned this before but it is worth
repeating and it’s also worth saying before
going any further that Dean McPhee is a skilful
and passionate storyteller writing and
performing music inspired by folklore, mysticism
and the landscapes in the ever fascinating
north.
‘Witch’s
Ladder is the much anticipated follow up to
2018’s wonderful ‘Four Stones’ and sees Dean
once more deliver a solo recording accompanied
here by his trusty Telecaster, valve amplifier
and various effects without using overdubs. Echo
and reverb are used cleverly and create a small
hours or twilight feel where all is quiet and
you can give the music and the images it
conjures up your full attention. Dean’s work has
been compared to the likes of Loren Connors,
Dylan Carson and Popol Vuh but as I’ve noted in
pervious reviews of Dean’s work there is a
strong grounding in folk traditions from the UK
and beyond underpinning the spacious exploratory
ambience and Kosmische textures that envelope
the listener. The striking album artwork is a
1933 painting by spiritual abstract artist Agnes
Pelton entitled ‘The Primal Wing’ and before a
note is played it sets the scene for a musical
journey that is both personal and shrouded in
mystery and imagination.
The
opening piece ‘The Alchemist’ has an
accompanying video of a misty lonesome walk at
Bolton Woods Quarry affording dramatic views
over Bradford. It’s an inspired pairing (check
it out on YouTube) and the music and visuals go
perfectly together. Fragments of old melancholic
folk melodies emerge from a wintery sonic mist.
It’s brooding but not dark with subtle melodic
shades of grey wrapped up in the big coat of the
guitar and warming effects to take away the
chill. ‘The Alder Tree’ follows with a gentle
underlying sway like an empty swing in the
breeze and an atmospheric and sparse slide
guitar melody that has a touch of cosmic Hank
Marvin loveliness adding a little Spring colour.
Haunting and ethereal picked guitar and subtle
washes of effects slowly and gently cradle the
piece creating deeper textures and giving it a
Kosmische sheen. ‘Red Lebanese’ may or may not
be a reference to a relaxation product of choice
and indeed it is much more of a textural
soundscape to lose yourself in with waves of
reverberating, pulsing, rippling and slowly
shifting drones and lingering e bow notes
weaving a hypnotic tapestry of icy and delicate
beauty. ‘Eskdale Path’ is another spacious
melodic travelogue cloaked in elegant desolation
and indeed splendid isolation. The layers of
guitar textures, e bow and picked melodic
wanderings create a mixture of feelings from
contemplation to exhilaration through cleverly
placed splashes of colour and subtle drones that
perfectly complement each other and convey a
filmic quality. The title track and longest
piece is spellbinding, if you’ll forgive the
virtual pun. The track is essentially in three
parts with the opening section spacious, fragile
and melodic with gently dramatic and ascending
peaks of soloing guitar that once again draw on
older melodies and sounds taking them to a new
place. The middle section is more intense and
structured with a fuller and more complex brew
of guitar sounds and effects on top of a
repeating melodic loop before returning to a
more airy and open conclusion featuring slide
guitar that adds a trace of country blues and
eastern melody in the ambient mix. It’s an
elegant, emotional, yearning sound and a
memorable finale to a very fine record.
For
those familiar with Dean’s previous work (and if
you aren’t you should be) there are many
familiar and comforting touchstones here. The
sound is however subtly and noticeably evolving,
perhaps a result of Dean’s growing confidence in
his sound and solo approach to recording. This
is a beautiful and evocative record rich in
imagery and with a compositional intelligence
that impressively squeezes a wealth of emotion,
colour and texture from the simple tools of a
Telecaster, valve amplifier and various effects
pedals to give the listener a valuable gallery
of sound paintings to get lost in whatever the
time of day or year. A highly recommended start
to your new year.
(Francis Comyn)
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SONGS OF
THE GREEN PHEASANT - WHEN THE WEATHER CLEARS
(CD/DL Music
|
Rusted Rail (bandcamp.com)
)
Sounding like a well-rehearsed band
playing
joyously together this project is, in fact, the
work of Duncan Sumpner, a
Stockport based musician with an ear for melody,
the delicious tunes wrapped in
hazy washes that lift them lightly to drift
amongst the landscape like soft,
beguiling clouds.
Right
from
the off “Garden Hook” reels you in bringing a
feel of nostalgia and
longing through its slowly revolving chords and
strings, hints of percussion
and drone giving the song a ritual feel that is
fuzzy and warm. Following a
similar path, “The Wormwood Star Falls” has some
glorious vocals that flutter
above the strummed guitar before drums and
distortion take the song ever higher
sounding like BJH if they were a Dream Pop band.
Suitably psychedelic the tune
is a standout for me setting the tone for that
which follows.
With
a
slightly fuzzy centre that wraps around you like
a favourite cardigan, “Sisters
of the District” is just beautiful, whilst
“Northbound Trains” has the air of
Simon and Garfunkel about it, sweet harmonies
and an innocent charm that is
easy to enjoy and lasts long in the memory.
Light
and
airy, “Hello” is a fabulous pop tune that is
happy and filled with sweetness, a
tune that will put a skip in your step and a
smile on your face, much needed in
these difficult times, the following “I” taking
the listener down a more sombre
path, a slow and droning tune that reminds me of
Gorkys Zygotic Mynci, with its
awkward, in a good way, harmonies.
Over
ten
songs the quality of the tunes never diminishes,
the whole album flowing
beautifully together, imagine drifting down a
river as the sun sets just
watching the scenery glide by, all this
personified by “In Very Truth” the
opening of which reminds me of Kevin Ayers
before it sets of down a long
rambling path, the journey far more important
than the destination, the
hypnotic riff and birdsong allowing your mind to
drift where it will, timeless
and delightful at every turn.
Finally
we
arrive at “Redundancy”, an Eno-esque piano
calming that rambling mind giving
us time for re-entry before a final sudden
ending.
As
with
all the best music this album takes a while to
settle needing a few listens
before all the layers are revealed, never less
than enchanting, a journey worth
taking.
(Simon Lewis)
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