Monday, October 18, 2010

E - the el dorado e.p, anji sami (2006) and employment, kaiser chiefs (2005)

the el dorado e.p. is one of my favourites. i'm a committed sami fan (both of anji's solo work, and with her sisters as a trio). this softly country-tinged e.p. features jaunty drums, wistful slide guitar, clever, heartfelt lyrics and that haunting, distinctive anji sami voice. secretly my favourite of the sisters, anji has a knack for well-composed, intelligent songs with real emotion to boot.

i was surprised (and frankly, a little bit cross) to read a review critiquing this album as "fragile" - i see it as nothing of the sort. i know it's naughty to do so, but compared to hannah howes' offerings on 'candy', the el dorado e.p is streets ahead in confidence, in song structure, and in identity as an artist. and it's a debut e.p. it's by no means perfect - in fact part of the beauty of the e.p. is the honesty in its flaws (such as a slightly out of time guitar strum at the beginning of one of the songs), but it showcases sami's intelligent songwriting, clever use of harmonies, and rich voice.

i am one of the fifteen people desperately awaiting the sami sisters' debut album and my only complaint with anji is that she's not exactly what we might call prolific. the upside of that is that she creates beautiful, clever music; music to be taken seriously.

i first encountered kaiser chiefs in late 2005 / early 2006, during that excellent winter of british-style indie pop. think kaiser chiefs, hard-fi, franz ferdinand (in the 'you could have it so much better' era, such a good
album), and yes, the killers circa hot fuss. i was living in europe and that indie britpop style underwent a total revolution that winter - we used to go to particular bars every wednesday and thursday for their "indie nights", we wore skinny jeans and chucks, we listened to morrissey, and yea, we were totally too cool for school. but it was 2006, and we rocked it.

i still listen to employment occasionally. "every day i love you less and less" is a great song for running - it's got a great beat and harsh motivating lyrics. when i was student president i (oh so wittily) had the deliciously chav-ish "i predict a riot" as my cellphone ringtone - and i still can't quite hear the beginning of that song without immediately putting myself in media-mode. the album maintains the effusive energy of its opening two tracks throughout, and the exuberance is contagious. it's a high-energy album, and takes a lot of energy to listen to as well - something that worked out well for me on a monday morning walk to work, but that sometimes makes it difficult to maintain an interest right throughout the album.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

D - dear catastophe waitress, belle and sebastian (2003)

i was a latecomer to belle and sebastian fandom, by virtue of the appearance of 'piazza, new york catcher' on the juno soundtrack. at face value an airy, cheerful song, with a restrained and delicate lyrical treatment on questions of love and confusion, the song attracted me. belle and sebastian seem to have a knack for taking sometimes complex, clever lyrics and making them fit. like almost everything about the juno soundtrack (perhaps the source of a separate entry at some later stage) the quirkiness of the song attracted me and more listening was clearly needed; the rest, as they say, is history, and i became a belle and sebastian convert.

this album combines aspects of twee '70s rock n roll (embodied in the upbeat, sugary sweet "if she wants me"), with idiosyncratic, cacophonic orchestral elements (such as throughout the title track). i like belle and sebastian's traditionally unconventional approach (can something be traditional and unconventional? i mean that traditionally b&s are unconventional) although i think this album is one of their more accessible. it's whimsical, unfalteringly happy (even when dealing with complex questions lyrically), and because of that one reviewer rates it as "the belle and sebastian album for people who never really liked belle and sebastian".

although i confess not having been a die-hard fan since their establishment, i do think our above reviewer is taking too hardline a viewpoint. i own two other b&s albums: the band's first album, the stripped-back, almost melancholic "tigermilk" (1996) and 2006's much more commercial effort, "the life pursuit". and i like these variants on the belle and sebastian sound as much as "dear catastophe waitress". to co-opt a b&s lyric ('you don't send me') "i'm a little bored" with reviewers who argue that a band's albums all need to sound the same. belle and sebastian have done what i think many bands struggle to do - matured, refined, and developed musically, while retaining their own unique sound. perhaps much of this can be credited to stuart murdoch's consistently charming voice and captivatingly complex lyrics. either way, i think it's interesting that 'juno' also features 'expectations' from "tigermilk" and the two tie together seamlessly.

i'm happy to stand behind dear catastrophe waitress as a refreshing little album, bubblegum and all. and i do really like belle and sebastian. so there.

they just don't write songs like this anymore

C - candy, hannah howes (2009)

hannah howes has a breathy, soulful voice, but this album failed to connect with me.  i like the jazzy, folky notes to her songs, but she lost me at "no surprises" and she didn't win me back. i am so over the reggae upstrum "new zealand sound" sound (although i feel this is a rant best reserved for a stand-alone post where i can really let rip) and i think it does hannah's clever voice lyrics a disservice.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

oh my god it's love!

my brother in london just sent me this recommendation - mumford and sons. i love them already. give me more give me more give me more!

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

B - blood on the tracks, bob dylan (1975)

there was a time when i wouldn't travel without two essential items: a copy of paulo coelho's 'the alchemist' and my well-worn cd of 'blood on the tracks'. admittedly i was then a dreadlocked student, revelling in wandering about the place, and it's fair to say some of my tastes have changed since then. but the major point really is that i can credit this album, and dylan himself, with my introduction to and love of folk music.

ranked 16 on rolling stone's five hundred greatest albums of all time, this is one of dylan's finest pieces of work and still a joy to listen to.

it seems one of the major criticisms of this album is that it's too same-y, with many of the songs in the same key. but i think part of the reason it makes such a great album to travel with, though, is that the album itself is a journey, and a story of heartache and of fate. on closer inspection the lyrics of opening track 'tangled up in blue' are deeply sad, covering a non-chronological account of a failed relationship. conventional wisdom appears to be that, despite dylan's denial of this point, the song (and indeed the entire album) reference his own break up with wife sara. interesting allusion to romeo and juliet ("i lived them on montague street") in the song as well.

despite this apparent angst, i've always found it a soothing, crooning kind of album. it's contemplative, easy to listen to, makes excellent use of the banjo, and is full of clever, well-structured songs that hold the listener's interest. one of the many things i like about this album is the little surprises i continue to find in it. i've owned it for about ten years now and i listen to it often, yet there's always something new in the songs to pop out and surprise me.

although by all accounts it's a sad album, i've always found it rather cathartic, hopeful and redemptive.