Recording review - The Mountain Goats, Transcendental Youth (2012)

Outsider stories of bad luck and poor choices are given a voice

John Darnielle and the Mountain Goats continue to conjure sympathetic connections to their outsider subjects. Darnielle gives these characters voice, with tones that are by turns resigned, challenging, or  occasionally defensive. While the stories dominate the songs on Transcendental Youth, the Mountain Goats continue to find the right simple backing to support the emotional feel of the narratives. One big change from previous albums is the addition of nuanced horn arrangements to several of the tracks, thanks to Matthew E. White. On earlier releases, the band has been labeled as folk rock, based on the central role of acoustic guitar, but the brass moves the band's sound further away from folk.

Transcendental Youth opens with a perfect message to match the title:

Do every stupid thing that makes you feel alive
Do every stupid thing to try to drive the dark away
Let people call you crazy for the choices that you make
Find limits past the limits, jump in front of trains all day
And stay alive

 "Amy (AKA Spent Gladiator I)" was inspired by Amy Winehouse's demise, but serves as an epistle to all the wild youth. It's not entirely clear whether Darnielle's advice is sarcastic or just telling his targets what they need to hear, but the tagline, "Just stay alive" is certainly heartfelt. Jon Wurster's steady beat anchors the processional chord progression, giving the track a post punk vibe. The clever lyrics and catchy hooks make this most likely to be covered by a hundred sincere garage bands in the coming year.

After such an affirmation, the next track, "Lakeside View Apartments Suite" takes on a tunnel-vision darkness. Simple piano and vocal build a wall against any sentimentality is this case study of hopelessness and addiction. The chorus hints at Bruce Springsteen's "It's Hard to be a Saint in the City", but with a desperate edge. Everything is falling apart, feeding the tension: "And just before I leave, I throw up in the sink / One whole life recorded in disappearing ink." These two songs measure the range of material on Transcendental Youth, from the jaunty "The Diaz Brothers" to the moody surrender of "Night Light".

Like their earlier releases, individual lines stand out: "Long, black night, morning frost / I'm still here but all is lost" from "Cry for Judas" or "Hold my hopes underwater / Stand there and watch them drown" from "Until  I am Whole". These simple phrases suggest back tales of bad luck and poor choices, but Darnielle's voice gives them an acknowledgement if not a whitewashed character study.

The title cut serves as a refreshing appendix to the album. White's horn arrangement is lush and Wurster's rimshot rhythm locks the tune into a jazz feel that buoys Darnielle's lyrics. The poetic lines are grounded with gritty imagery: "Cedar smudge our headbands and take to the skies / Soar ever upwards on air gone black with flies." The music plays a stronger role here than anywhere else on the disc, suggesting that however bad it gets, they're prepared to deal with it and move on.

Recording review - And the Giraffe, Creature Collector (2012)

Delicately balanced dreamy folk

Last year, I reviewed And the Giraffe's EP, Something For Someone. I enjoyed their mellow exploration of dreamy folk space; each song created a different mood, finding its own niche. Their latest short-form release, Creature Collector, builds on that nuanced sound with richer production and a stronger contribution from the rhythm section. A perfect example is "Of the Moment", which starts with simple reverbed guitar figure. Robert Edmondson's melodic bass line comes in and adds focus to the quiet reflection. Gossamer shreds of electronic washes are barely perceptible. The breathy lyrics are brief and poetic:

Here I am, trapped in the embers
Of the moment
And the why

Darkness descends with a sharp contrast between prickly bass notes of doom and a rapid, panicked drum beat. This dissipates as the song wakes, driven by an experimental percussion jam. It's a lot to fit into three minutes, but the band effortlessly flows through this evolution.

And the Giraffe continues to evoke Gomez, with vocals reaching for Ben Ottewell's velvet rasp. "Find My Name in the Sun" floats forward, with a weary acceptance:

Does a loving feud have to be something more?
Will the rug muffle our yells?
Will the chipped paint ever dry?
Will the room keep closing in?

The detached vocals suggest a surrender at the loss of a relationship, holding none of the sting these lyrics suggest. The music remains unencumbered and light, despite some ornamentation. A soft banjo, synth washes, and other subtle sounds add detail, but find a delicate balance. The folky feel transitions into a rootless, atmospheric electronic shimmer for the bridge. This heralds a growing complexity, where complacence becomes anticipation, signaling an end to the grieving. Conflicting details layer together, but never feel chaotic because harmony still dominates.

The six songs on Creature Collector all seem to capture some degree of pain in their lyrics, but the music redeems them from any self-absorbed whining. It's hard to be melodramatic when the tunes remain stubbornly low key and perceptive. So, it's less Melanie's "Beautiful Sadness" and more Wilco's "Less Than You Think". In fact, the closing track, "Enough is Enough" seems to channel Jeff Tweedy's halting rhythm in its beginning section. The simple piano is sparse, emphasizing the lines by dropping back rather than dynamic punches. After this intro, the rest of the band comes in, kicking off a "Walk on the Wild Side" groove. Except for a touch of noodling electric piano early in this section, it's a perfect transition. The song closes with a fuller sound; distorted guitar and a saturated mix bury the track in another noisy Wilco touch.

Drop by And the Giraffe's Bandcamp page where you can name your price to download Creature Collector.

Recording review - Andrew Bird, Hands of Glory (2012)

Revisiting and reworking in a traditional vein

Andrew Bird is one of those intense musicians who merges classically trained technical chops, confident cross-genre improvisation and an intuitive feel for processing sounds through loopers and other toys. Whether whistling, singing, or playing violin or guitar, Bird effortlessly creates music of tasteful complexity. He’s also quite prolific. Like Prince or Robert Pollard, he seems to constantly record himself, releasing a range of studio and live albums, companion albums, and numerous singles. So far, his high level of quality hasn’t diluted his impact.

Earlier this year, he released Break It Yourself, performing a series of indie pop jams with his band. This album had a more relaxed feel than some of his solo material. His latest offering, Hands of Glory, is a follow-up/companion EP that roots itself in a simpler country folk sound. With a clearer vision, it’s much more consistent than Break It Yourself. While a couple of tunes were recorded in between tour dates, the bulk of the album came from looser acoustic jams, captured with a single microphone. This deliberate move back to folkier roots feels like he’s seeking comfort and a firmer foundation compared to some of his more experimental arrangements and equipment. The focus on cover songs and reworked versions adds to the feel of looking back more than forward.

Bird eases us into the album with the two studio pieces. Three White Horses begins with a meditative sparseness: a measured bass line, then the barest touch of cymbal and guitar. When Bird’s voice joins in to sing the first line, the warm reverb production lays a beautifully retro patina across the guitar line and vocals. This spare start sets a film noir mood. Then the second line blossoms as the backing harmonies splash color into the monochrome palette of the song. At its heart, it’s a simple indie folk song, but the heat shimmer of notes welling up add an ethereal touch. That smooth, haunting tone could be a slide guitar or the singing of a processed violin; either way, the spiritual touch matches the memento mori lyrical theme. “You will need somebody when you come to die.” The track builds into gospel intensity as the accompaniment grows wilder, but Bird’s voice and the acoustic guitar stay clean even as the thick haze of layered instrumentation crowds the other channel. The tune returns to simplicity to finish as a benediction.

The other studio track is a cover of When That Helicopter Comes. Where the Handsome Family’s original had a more traditional bluegrass/country rock sound, Bird speeds it up and polishes the edges down. Like Three White Horses, the slapback echo production on the vocals and guitar has an old school sound. He’s manipulated the chords on the refrain to briefly hint at a jazzy Western swing and his violin fills here have a wistful sophistication. But darkness is never too far and the apocalyptic lyrics inexorably spell out a modern vision of Revelations. The track ends with an echo feedback tone that suggests that the helicopter might be closer than we think.

After these two studio pieces, Hands of Glory transitions to a rawer, old time folk style. Long ago, radio and stage shows often featured bands sharing a single mic and many bluegrass groups today maintain the tradition. Each song becomes a dance as players step forward and back to adjust their place in the mix. Bird has used this technique during performances to create an intimate roots feel and it’s a natural fit for these songs. Another key element in the band’s approach is based on a history of less directed playing. They’ve have been having summer jam sessions for the last three years. They spend several days just relaxing and seeing where the songs take them. The first track of this section is a radical reworking of Alpa Consumer’s Spirograph. The indie pop original has none of the grace captured here. Bird’s version is clear and beautiful in its sadness. The verses remind me of Paul Simon or maybe Joni Mitchell’s A Case of You. The guitar work is fine in its subtlety: echoes, scratches and swells color in the emotional nuances of the song.

The next few songs are well executed, starting with a self-satisfied version of the old song, Railroad Bill. This is followed by the stately, stripped down Something Biblical and a cover of Townes Van Zandt’s If I Needed You. While these are nice tunes, the next peak is Bird’s reinvention of his song Orpheo Looks Back from Break It Yourself. Orpheo jettisons the syncopated gypsy feel of the original, slowing it down to create a more reflective mood. The pacing and folky integrity give the lyrics more depth and color them with regret and experience.

Hands of Glory stays true to the idea of revisiting and reworking as it wraps up with the nine minute Beyond the Valley of the Three White Horses, an instrumental version of the opening track. Fully acoustic, it deconstructs Three White Horses into constituent parts. The violin begins against the background sound of crickets; then the staccato chord progression comes in. Bird’s violin has a nostalgic feel. The wordless vocals are full of longing and the harmonies sweeten the sound as they echo the slide line from Three White Horses. A little over a third of the way through, the song transforms as the choppy chords fade to make room for chamber sound, lush with bowed strings and a delicate whistle. This evolves into a Phillip Glass minimalism before it closes on a reprise of the vocal section.

Bird comes back to these pieces, not to repair them or to correct a mistake, but to find another jumping off point and see where it leads. This constant seeking is one of his core tenets. In this case, as he digs through his own musical roots, he shows how common ground can yield beautiful results.

(This review originally appeared on Spectrum Culture)

Recording review - Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Allelujah! Don't Bend! Ascend! (2012)

 Cleansing noise, organic chaos, and feedback drones herald a fine return

Godspeed You! Black Emperor slipped into indefinite hiatus back in 2003. Fans were heartened when they reunited in 2010 to curate and perform for All Tomorrow's Parties' Nightmare Before Christmas festival, but it's taken another couple of years to get a new album from the band. Allelujah! Don't Bend! Ascend! will certainly please their fan base, although some might mutter about the paucity of new new material. The album clocks in at a respectable 53 minutes on four tracks, but the two long tracks are older songs. "Mladic" and "We Drift Like Worried Fire", formerly known as "Albanian" and "Gamelan" respectively, each run 20 minutes and contrast with the two shorter pieces, both in style and breadth.

"Mladic" opens with a tape loop ("'With his arms outstretched', 'with his arms outstretched'...") and swells of guitar. Sustained guitar, ornamented with violins in bagpipe drag, defines the ground floor of what will grow into a chaotic tower of ragged sonic textures. The noise swirls around, creating an eye of calm to cocoon all within the ringing headphone space. It promises, "submit to the fuzz-laden power and be cleansed." The circle tightens around a single note, with overtones creeping in and away. That tonal center modulates, tuning into a deeper frequency of the universe. The pocket is buffeted by springy pokes of guitar, but remains strong...

That's just the first three minutes. The track carries on to ride through tempo changes, percussive syncopation, and even something resembling a song. Along the way, the sonic tour visits the motor at the center of the world, imagines dimensions where Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music sits at the top of the pop charts, and samples an Eastern European alternative radio station featuring Dick Dale's live performance in Hell. This beautifully evocative chaos is exactly what  Godspeed You! Black Emperor built their reputation on.

"We Drift Like Worried Fire" presents another face. Here, the music acts as score backing a dream. Creaking timbers and drifting tones suggest a rudderless ship in the fog. When we find ourselves delivered onto a crystalline shore, faced with a maze of interlocking guitar lines, there's no choice but to move forward into the indie psyche groove. The paced melodic bass line under the choppy guitars and drums suggest a My Morning Jacket jam, full of transcendent hope. And when a darker tune rises into the cracks of the song and takes over, the creepy tension is still held at a distance by a trick of dream logic.

These epic journeys position the shorter tracks as mere interludes, where six and a half minutes seems like a short form for the band. Both "Their Helicopters Sing" and "Strung Like Lights at Thee Printemps Erable" are structured around gentler drones. "Strung Like Lights" offers some feedback-driven angst, but even that dissolves. These songs never coalesce like their larger siblings, but each explores an interesting set of textures. Recorded with smaller line-up and sparser instrumentation, they feel incomplete; their soft focused ambiance acts as a digestif for the longer pieces. 

Less overtly political than earlier releases, Allelujah! Don't Bend! Ascend! relies on subtle clues in the liner notes and song titles to allude to their causes. Whether you're familiar with the Maple Spring protests or not, embrace the noisy catharsis and appreciate that Godspeed You! Black Emperor is back.