singer-songwriter

Song of the Week: "Evangeline"

Ian Alterman — Sat, 01 Apr 2023 19:46:47 +0000

Song of the Week: "Evangeline" Ian Alterman April 1, 2023 - 15:46

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As Dusty is well aware, I have a "thing" for retro-sounding songs: songs produced, recorded and/or performed in a way that harkens back to the '60s or '70s. Among the most recent such songs are Black Puma's 2019 hit, "Colors" (which sounds like something Marvin Gaye might have recorded), and Thee Sacred Souls 2022 "Love Is the Way," which has a fabulous Motown-ish production.

Now comes along this lovely lilt, "Evangeline," from Nashville newcomer Stephen Sanchez. Reminiscent of Gordon Lightfoot (or, later, Jim Croce), it is simple and effective, with a nice use of falsetto. A beautiful song, and a nice start for singer-songwriter Sanchez, from whom I hope we will be hearing more soon. The video shows an unintendedly (?) comical (but endearing) case of unrequited (or, at least, incompleted) love in a movie theater.

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Singled Out & Singular

Robert Cochrane — Tue, 06 Sep 2022 19:19:34 +0000

Singled Out & Singular Robert Cochrane September 6, 2022 - 15:19

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JOHN HOWARD: "From The Far Side Of A Near Miss" (Kool Kat)

English singer-songwriter John Howard has long been a quiet, often inadvertent iconoclast. From his glittering arrival in 1974 he was unambiguously himself. His fey and languid nature, fedoras and pin-striped suits which accompanied his baroque-glam pop, think Elton John minus the American whine with a dash of Bowie and Noel Coward. Howard's naturalness alienated and alarmed certain older men in suits, executives at his record labels, and those who reigned upon the playlists of radio stations. Unlike his direct US contemporary Jobriath who waved his sexuality in the horrified face of his homelands's conformist nature, Howard fell victim to simply being himself. For many it isn't a case of being either "out" or "in", merely existing gives a perfect reason for moral censure. Such was so for the young Mister Howard. His career stalled and after a decade of neglect and indifference he moved into the business of selling and making records by established artists, effectively abandoning the ambition to craft and be recognised for his own. A hiatus of two decades creative silence ensued.

His return to the limelight was as unexpected as it has been rewarding. He is akin to those late to accolade, Bill Fay and Sixto Rodriguez, gifted artists who failed to sail upon the breeze of their time but who've been justly recognised as purveyors of integrity and distinction in recent ones. John Howard wasn't going to miss the music train for a second time. He grasped the unexpected interest the reissue of his debut album Kid In A Big World twenty years ago and has consistently delivered a perfect canon of dignified releases, impeccable quality tailored for the new century. Alas he remains a respected, well kept secret, an artist of integrity who yet awaits deserved wider recognition.

Hot on the perfect high heels of LOOK, his recent album that used the life of his friend, trans icon and activist, the late April Ashley as its inspiration, he delivers a delightful conundrum and anomaly in the form of "From The Far Side Of A Near Miss." The cover celebrates his early look. Suited and hatted and perfectly tinted from a black and white shot from back then, he could easily have been one of Cecil Beaton's "bright young things". Howard is an unabashed pop fan at heart. A walking resource of chart placings, cherished songs and their attendant trivia. He adores the single as a format, from the halcyon days of Dusty Springfield, The Walker Brothers, the unbridled success of The Beatles, and onwards to the glam glories of Bolan and Bowie, the vinyl 45 has both stimulated and beguiled his magpie nature. As it declines as a physical entity he has shaken down the format in a unique exercise of inspired reinvention. At thirty-seven minutes his new single is longer than many classic albums, but remains a single. A long song that challenges preconceptions though these all vanish as it plays.

Imagine T.S. Eliot's The Wasteland set to music. The dour American sage in a feather boa stroking the keys of his piano in a reverie of existential reflection. A cross between a sequence of memories of things past, a patchwork of nostalgia and a dualogue of 'what if' queries, a perfectly externalised cavalcade of interior moments. The format allows Howard to speculate, imagine and pontificate. A stellar cast swans briefly in and out. Marilyn Monroe to Mae West, Bob Dylan and The Rolling Stones. It is an essay of celebration and regret. A variety of backdrops, cityscapes and pastoral aches allows for a wide palette of uninhibited concise on. Elements of John Betjeman as Alan Bennett gild the nature of his observations. The presence of absences.

"I said 'Let's take a short vacation

Pretend that it's for life

Send postcards to the graves of friends

Who decades gone have died'

You said 'But what if one replies

And invites us round for tea

Will we turn up wearing nothing

But our incredulity'"

A strange dialogue of abandoned possibilities between to old friends or more likely an interior monologue it covers a considerable amount of speculative thought. The words wear an air of casual wisdom, work well alone, but slink and sail via Howard's effortless delivery.

"I said 'Let's go to Madame Tussaud's

Pretend that they're all real

Have conversations with Bob Dylan

Tell him how it really feels'

You said 'All of your pop heroes

Never changed a single thing

Fans gave them all their money

Bought them great places to sing'

"I said 'They gave us hope

They shared all their dreams

They showed us things are never

What the liars make them seem

Poems can be prophecies of politicians' schemes

The responsibility is ours

To choose what we believe'"

There are brief musical motifs, the ghost of a Beatles refrain. This is a work that can only arise from a wealth of experience for one to dissect, reflect and draw upon. It is extraordinarly sustained. Despite the breadth and depth it flies by in a resemblance to twenty minutes though it runs to nigh double that duration. Sustained, yet fleeting this is a piece to savour and observe. Like a precious stone turned over in the palm it changes what is revealed by repeated plays.

On the reverse of the image of his effortlessly effete young self John Howard stares out as he now is, bearded and in a straw Panama hat he resembles an English Walt Whitman. Poetry in much slower motion. He possesses an air of effortlessness because he is a man at home with himself and his enviable gifts.

A strangely beautiful and unconventional single from a singular soul, this quietly understated effort remains a treasure for the listener. It can rightly be called unique without need for further clarification and deserves to be valued, cherished and widely shared.

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Song of the Week: "Funny Girl"

Ian Alterman — Thu, 03 Mar 2022 20:28:42 +0000

Song of the Week: "Funny Girl" Ian Alterman March 3, 2022 - 15:28

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Father John Misty is a walking trove of ironies and dichotomies. Born and raised in a devout religious household, he came to hate "religion." Yet he takes the honorific "Father." He has been a singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and producer for 20 years, yet has a healthy disdain for the industry in which he works. He has played and toured mostly with lesser-known artists, but has also contributed to albums by megastars like Beyonce and Lady Gaga. And he is known for his doom and gloom (or at least dour and cynical) songwriting, yet maintains a personal optimism. Ultimately, Father John Misty is a brilliant, often under-the-radar, musical personage who really should be better known than he is.

And with his new single "Funny Girl," from his forthcoming SubPop album Chloë and the Next 20th Century, he has tapped into the "retro is in" zeitgeist -- though, as usual, not in the way everyone else is doing. No 1960s/1970s retro for him; he has gone all the way back to the 1940s with this fabulous tribute to Hollywood soundtracks. And he marries it to a bizarre video featuring Wizard of Oz cinematography (not surprisingly the moody, broody parts) juxtaposed with a jellyfish floating around the scenes. Not what one would expect for a song called "Funny Girl." But then, Father John Misty rarely gives us what we expect -- but always gives us something remarkable.

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Song of the Week: "People Clap Hands"

Dusty Wright — Wed, 02 Feb 2022 16:46:40 +0000

Song of the Week: "People Clap Hands" Dusty Wright February 2, 2022 - 11:46

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Former NYer/current LA-based singer-songwriter David Poe is one of my favorite artists. (David was the sound engineer at CBGB's 313 Gallery. He mixed most, if not all, of my shows there.) He writes meaningful, memorable melodies and delivers them with ease and moving grace. His latest song is one of his more uptempo and uplifting songs. Like an acoustic Peter Gabriel. Wonderful production and catchy as hell and one of the best songs of the new year. Definitely something we all need during these taxing times. This is the first track from his highly-anticipated new album Everyone's Got A Camera (September 23rd, 2022). He's coming to Rockwood Music Hall in NYC in March. Buy tickets here.

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Love it!!

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Why So Blue?

Ian Alterman — Sun, 18 Jul 2021 12:34:27 +0000

Why So Blue? Ian Alterman July 18, 2021 - 08:34

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One of the things that has been getting me through the pandemic is my CD collection. I have been listening to at least one CD per day since May of 2020 (and I have well over 1,000 CDs) in alphabetical order by artist, and chronological order within each artist's oeuvre.

Yet it is a truly amazing coincidence that I just happened to start on Joni Mitchell's catalogue this past week, just as there is much ballyhoo and brouhaha being made of the 50^th anniversary of Blue, her fourth album, released in June of 1971. Indeed, it seems like every music reviewer, and many writers who are not specifically music writers, have felt compelled to celebrate the album's anniversary with breathless paeans and sparkling verbosity (and occasionally rank hyperbole).

Personally, I don't see what all the fuss is about. Yes, Blue is a fabulous album. But it is not her best album (an appellation which is, of course, hopelessly subjective, but to this reviewer, Hissing of Summer Lawns holds that place), nor is it even her best "early" period album; in that regard, Blue is tied with, if not slightly inferior to, For the Roses. (Even Clouds may be its equal.) It wasn't even the album that brought her quasi-mainstream success -- that would be either her sophomore album, Clouds (with "Chelsea Morning" and "Both Sides Now") or her third album, Ladies of the Canyon (with "Big Yellow Taxi," "The Circle Game" and "Woodstock") -- much less true mainstream success: that would be Court & Spark (with "Help Me," "Free Man in Paris," and her wonderful version of the Ross/Gray standard, "Twisted").

So what is so specifically important about Blue? If you follow the hype, its importance rests primarily on two things.

First, it was allegedly the first of Joni's albums to be produced by her; i.e., an album produced by its female writer. Indeed, it was supposedly only the second rock (or even folk-rock) album completely under the control of a woman. [Famously, Bobbie Gentry, of "Ode to Billy Joe" fame, was the first female artist to have complete control over her own material.] There had already been several solo albums by female singer-songwriters (mostly "folkies" like Joan Baez and Buffy St. Marie and, of course, Joni herself). Most significant, perhaps, was Carole King's Tapestry, which was released just five months prior to Blue. But all of those albums were produced by men. For a woman to have complete control over not only the lyrics and music, but also over the album's production, was basically unheard-of at the time. So even with three albums under Joni's macramé belt, this was no small thing.

All that said, the reason I use "allegedly" and "supposedly" is that this is really an exercise in semantics. The "producer" credit on Joni's debut album, Song to a Seagull, is given to David Crosby; however, based on comments made by Crosby himself, production duties were shared. Joni's second album, Clouds, actually gives her co-production credit (in fact, it only gives her co-producer credit for one song). And Henry Levy's credit on her third album, Ladies of the Canyon, is "production advice." So one could legitimately claim that Joni was producing or co-producing her albums from the very beginning -- which is actually even more remarkable than if Blue was the first one on which she did so.

The second thing, and the one that seems to be most discussed in the myriad articles I have seen, is the brutal "honesty" of the songs, written during and after a European jaunt taken as she was breaking up with Graham Nash and taking up with James Taylor. But Joni's lyrics have always been extremely honest, and deeply reflective of life, relationships, and humanity's joys and foibles, both individual (particularly including her own) and collective. In this regard, I believe the more accurate term would be "vulnerable," which is not the same thing as "honest" (though they are usually related). And given the situation surrounding the album's creation (leaving California for Europe, leaving Nash for Taylor, having a brief affair while in Europe, etc.), there is a much deeper sense of vulnerability on Blue than in the majority of songs on her prior three albums. (The one song I would say is most predictive of Blue in this regard -- and, indeed, of everything up to and including For the Roses --is "Sisotowbell Lane" from Song to a Seagull.)

Another aspect of Blue that is important -- again, even though she already had three albums out --- is the influence it had on singer-songwriters, particularly (but by no means solely) women, and the empowerment, both musical and "business-wise," that Blue represented. This is particularly true given not only the release of Tapestry just months prior, but also the release of Cat Stevens' sophomore album, Tea for the Tillerman, in November 1970. With Tillerman and Tapestry close behind it, the release of Blue (and perhaps one or two other albums between late 1970 and late 1971) signified the beginning of an extended era of singer-songwriters: Joni's already growing influence, combined with that of Stevens and King, really catapulted singer-songwriters into the mainstream in a way that had not been nearly as true prior thereto (with the exceptions of Bob Dylan, Neil Young, and Joni's countryman, Gordon Lightfoot). In fact, there is a straight line from Joni, Cat and Carole -- and Blue, Tillerman and Tapestry -- to everyone from Don McLean and Jim Croce (who had earlier albums out, but did not achieve mainstream success until this period), to Jackson Browne and Billy Joel, to Tracy Chapman and the singer-songwriters of the '70s and '80s.

Another aspect of Blue, and of Joni in general, that rarely gets talked about is her prodigious musicianship. It is rare enough to be proficient on an instrument, much less virtuosic. To be so on two or three instruments -- as well as vocally -- is positively frightening. Largely self-taught, she did take some classical piano, as well as some music theory, and worked particularly on her singing from childhood. (I have heard more than one opera singer comment that they thought Joni had been operatically trained. She was not, though she has both an operatic range and perfect voice control.) She was also one of the first guitarists -- and probably the first folk guitarist -- to play around with alternate tunings (in her case out of necessity, due to a left hand weakened from childhood disease). She also mastered the ukulele, dulcimer, and a few other strummed or picked instruments. And although her musical brilliance has been obvious since her debut album, it shines on Blue in a way that it does not on earlier albums. And the strict alternating of guitar songs with piano songs on Blue really helps focus one's attention on this. As Dusty remarked as I was writing this, Dylan may (or may not) be the better singer-songwriter, but he can't touch her musicianship.

A final aspect of Blue that is worth noting is how Joni "borrows" from herself -- in both directions (i.e., borrowing from earlier songs, and using pieces of songs on Blue in later songs). My older brother (no slouch in the rock historian department) once remarked that he didn't like much of Hejira because there was so much "re-hashing" of earlier songs, particularly from Hissing. But Joni has always borrowed (sometimes heavily) from herself, as much or more so than other songwriters do. For example, parts of "Songs to Aging Children Come" (from Clouds), are evident in "Marcie" (from Seagull), and the main theme of "Boho Dance" (from Hissing) can be heard on one of the songs on Blue, as can themes from other later songs. "The Arrangement" (from Ladies) is a direct precursor to "Harry's House/Centerpiece" (on Hissing). And the entire "feeling" of Hissing (which is what I love most about it) can be heard on "Dawntreader" (from Seagull). (As an aside, the opening of "River" -- which begins with the line, "It's coming on Christmas" -- is an inside-out version of "Jingle Bells," and the coda to "Roses Blue" (from Clouds) is a nod to "My Favorite Things" (from The Sound of Music: "raindrops on roses…" )) Indeed, a lengthy article -- perhaps even a book -- could be written not just about how artists influence each other, and borrow from each other and external sources, but how much they borrow from themselves.

Don't get me wrong: I love Blue, and always have. And I have always considered Joni a huge inspiration, and second only to Dylan as a "rock poet" (of which there are only a handful). But one could (and should) make as much hay from the 50^th (or 40^th or 25^th, or…) anniversary of any of Joni's albums as is being done with Blue. She is simply one of rock's greatest treasures: one of its most diverse and extraordinary writers; one of its most talented musicians/singers; and one of its most significant, if not always properly heralded, influences.

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Blues About Blue

Well there are a few exceptions (http://parrotslamppost.blogspot.com/2017/10/list-and-you-shall-hear-iii-joni.html) to the consensus on Blue. I agree with almost all your comments and said so in the above-mentioned post. I would only dispute the idea that Blue "signified the beginning of an extended era of singer-songwriters" -- your own examples, and dozens more you could have added, show that Blue was not the beginning or end or an especially important middle of any such thing. A fine album, but of no special importance either in Joni's work or the folk-inspired singer-songwriter genre. What it may have been important to is a genre of experimental female keyboard artists that includes people like Kate Bush, Tori Amos and Fiona Apple. But of course, Laura Nyro deserves the first credit for that genre -- as a fan of hers named Elton John would surely agree.

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A Compliment of Forgotten Lost Songs

Robert Cochrane — Sun, 18 Apr 2021 19:59:45 +0000

A Compliment of Forgotten Lost Songs Robert Cochrane April 18, 2021 - 15:59

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Ex Norwegian & Friends Sing Jimmy Campbell (Beyond Before Records, LP/CD/MP 3)

Compliments, like revenge, are sometimes best served cold.

Jimmy Campbell is no longer here to receive his, having died in 2007 at the age of sixty-three. He left behind four exquisitely accomplished albums, and nine singles under various guises, but his true masterpiece is his haunting 45 "Michaelangelo" which he released in 1967 as The 23rd Turnoff. A thing of mystery and great charm it is a perfectly haunting period piece. Songs from his eloquent catalogue of poppy melancholia have been given a kindly backwards glance by Ex Norwegian who've got their friends in on fourteen wonderful acts of artistic affection. Campbell was a reluctant live performer but his records betray a talented intelligence. A craftsman of rare abilities, his songs stand well for these acts of deserved reanimation. To the few who know his work they will come as no surprise, but to those who've never encountered his efforts, a journey of reward will follow in the wake of listening to his re-interpretation.

Things kick off with a true glam stomp like The Lemon Twigs in all their retro excess. "Yes It Is" features Joe Kane above searing harmonies that sound like Queen in cahoots with Mott The Hoople. A perfect opener. Shimmering and slinky, and just a little bit kinky with perhaps a touch of the Raspberries, the lyric betrays a timeless honesty of observation.

"I can say so cause I found it to be true

It's best to be off with your old love

Before you're on with the new"

"Forever Grateful" with Coke Belda is like Stealer's Wheel and The Strawbs with touches of Al Stewart via some sublime guitar licks reminiscent of a seventies sunny afternoon . A corkingly jolly affair that blends nicely with an equally joyous but more psychedelic edge which evokes a mellow Kinks or The Who in a rare pastoral vibe. A West Coast breath of Englishness.

"Fate is neither here or there

And Love is but a poor excuse"

"Stayed Out Late Last Night" swaggers with a provocative sass. The Beach Boys in a punky vibe thanks to The Elms Estate. A power-pop masterpiece full of deft touches suggestive of The Left Banke, and one which is over all too soon.

"Don't You Ever Think I Cry" possesses a lighter swaying piece of stadium angst with Lynyrd Skynyrd guitars to boot and Jim Camacho in fine lung form. A take that cooks up a quiet storm in an epic of restrained proportions via an emotively tasteful vocal.

"Half Baked" delivers a louche psyche vibe. Beautiful and chamber drenched, it is piece of flamboyant disregard that slips easily into a Canned Heat blues boogie and a Blood Sweat And Tears heaviness before Rhys Marsh steers it back to a reflective haziness. If variety is the spice of life it resides in this assured collision of styles. With a staggeringly clever string arrangement as a parting mini symphony at the end it is a deftly realised accomplishment.

As though Gilbert O'Sullivan had upped his intake of uppers, a Beatles-esque verve presides in John Ford and his slightly poppy McCartney "Missing Kissing You" -- a small pop gem that bounces by with a happy heart, breezing simply along like early Rod Stewart and The Faces with all its laconic optimism.

"You Break My Heart In Two" cloaks Edward Rogers in a Stranglers-like psych-vibe, but with a later Bowie ache to the vocal. An essentially glam anthem with a touch of swirling vitality suggestive of flowing scarves around the wrist. A silver-lined dream.

"You're Spending All My Money" has Mark Johnston in a spiritual tryst with the late Brett Smiley but with "The White Album"-era John Lennon in its heaviness of heart. All breathless and deliciously fey with licks a plenty to impress with elements of T.Rex it grinds along with tremendous aplomb and an implicit confidence of stride.

DC Cardwell delivers "That's Right That's Me" around an early seventies Cockney Rebel flippancy, a stomping beat that drives the vocal forth like a thundering wave over walloping drums. All that glitters must be gold.

A breath of world weary elegance arrives in the form of John Howard's smouldering but masterful ownership of the ballad "Baby Walk Out With Your Darling Man," a confidently restrained slice of comforting pop. A cry in whatever drink you happen to be holding at the time of sadness, this perfectly realised this little watercolour of wistful nostalgia wanders into the mind to find a place to stay. As restrained a piece of pop whimsy with as sharp an edge as one could hope for, it is both glorious and gorgeous.

"Baby walk out with your darling man

And hold the lovely day

In the palm of your hand

You had lovely yellow hair

But now its turned to gold.

So baby walk out with your darling man"

"Flowers Are Flowering" features Cherry Parke in a garagey mood echoing early Who in cahoots with the late Roky Erikson -- a psych mash-up of swirling lights and incense smoke. Randy California's Spirit as a combined force with The Only Ones though the song remains uniquely its own masterful creation.

Rome56 make "Paris You're In Paris" into a perfectly casual pop moment. A sixties throwaway vibe pinned out as a sheer delight. Echoes of Carnaby Street, mini skirts and love beads. A happy note from a more innocent time.

"When I Cross Your Path" is Esteban Cisnero swaggering in a far from angelic conversation with a punk pop psych-edge of simmering restraint and is an enthusiastic little diamond of a song that hits the heart and soothes the soul with an immediacy in its gait.

There's a very London postcard of personal observations set to music in the signing off of "Loving You Is All I Do." A lurching confidence oozes through Kevin Robertson's lovely hazy, lazy vocal above the plucked strings oozes through every pore of this slightly power-pop garage song delivered with a petulance awash with subtle strings. The ghost of Syd Barrett reigns within this wonderful piece English whimsy.

"Silently the dark blue clouds

Go drifting, always chasing

and they don't give me time

To find your face.

Eventually you'll go I know

To someone else's table

Wearing sword-white gloves

On snow-white hands."

Jimmy Campbell deserves to be better respected and more widely known. He was man who had a neat turn of phase and an ear for a perfect melody to set those words within. What Ex Norwegian have accomplished in this assemblage with their friends, is the realisation of a huge labour of love, and an act of devotion and respect for a talent that was never quite granted that recognition in his day. They have created the perfect key to unleash the interest of the curious. A pilgrim-like journey to appreciate the talent of a largely forgotten entity. It is a humbling enterprise and a telling tale of the vagaries of fate, and that talent may not get you recognised, but in the long run, in the right hands, it may get the efforts that you left behind, lovingly remembered.

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Jimmy Campbell

Thanx for the kind words sir!
It was a labor of luv
E

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Night Falls & Lullabies

Dusty Wright — Mon, 07 Sep 2020 14:00:00 +0000

Night Falls & Lullabies Dusty Wright September 7, 2020 - 10:00

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CECILIE ANNA: New Bird (Fame)

Some of the best albums startle you with their simplistic arrangements, letting the vocals and piano and/or guitar pull you along. Think early Joni Mitchell, Elton John, Cat Stevens, This Mortal Coil, Anthony & The Johnson. Less is more, less allows the poetry of the lyrics and the tone of the vocals and instruments guide you on your musical journey. Add Norwegian siren Cecilie Anna's latest long player to the storied singer-songwriter circle. You may have read a recent review on this site of her outstanding album I'm Here from a few years ago, but this album may be even better.

This is music best experienced late at night or on rainy, gray winter days. There is melancholic beauty in each note that is tethered by her delicate yet dynamic piano and keyboard playing. Her mournful vocals suggest an unfussy clarity of divine origin. Moreover, the album opens with a church organ playing a lulling melody and then the reverential vocals of Cecilie drop in a half-minute later:

"When the night falls and I

Lay my head to rest

And the sky turns so weak

And falls into the night

I have done all I can to follow you

'Cause from your heart

A light shines on me"

We, as listeners, understand immediately that we've been invited to the temple of her soul.

New Bird by Cecilie Anna

On the title track "New Bird," one of the album's more uptempo confessional ballads, Cecilie shares her personal quest with us. Her piano augmented by her lyrical flute playing and clear vocals. This is an artist laying bare her feelings for her lover.

"Lay your head upon my shoulder

Lay your thoughts upon my day

Lay your hand upon my beating heart

I'll see you through the night

I'll see you through the morning light"

Our very own CC writer and UK poet extraordinaire Robert Cochrane along with Welshman Steve Hywyn Jones (Brodyr-Y-Ffin) supplied the evocatively simple, but brilliant ballad "Stranger Canyons;" lyrics by Rob, music by Steve. Just vocals and piano emoting:

"Consider what the years have done

Laughter still, but sorrows found

Follows us where tears can run

Over and over

Through

Stranger canyons, stranger canyons"

Her voice seems to find solace in the truth of the lyrics; each note gaining strength by recognizing the ravages of time on one's life. The resignation that time marches on.

Winter Turns to Spring by Cecilie Anna

And on the very next song, "Winter Turns to Spring," she finds hope in the dawning of a new day, a new season of hope. Hope springs eternal when love is at stake, when love is a worthy reward, even one may have to wait for it across "borders" or years.

"I'll never leave you

‘Cause you never left me

Across these borders

Through heart and time

I'm still here

'Cause you never left me

I know I'll see you

As winter turns to spring"

Produced by Gisle Ostrem and Cecilie with a religious reverence throughout, New Bird nourishes the spirit with each listen. And it is a rare and beautiful bird, indeed.

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A Measurement of Distance

Robert Cochrane — Tue, 11 Aug 2020 16:02:15 +0000

A Measurement of Distance Robert Cochrane August 11, 2020 - 12:02

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JOHN HOWARD: To The Left Of The Moon's Reflection (JH Records)

Exile and absence are closely connected to the creative muse, a resonance confirmed by John Howard's latest opus. Minted in Spain, but as English as cricket, warm ale and saucy, seaside postcards, it is a gift and pleasure to behold. Within it various musical ghosts are raised to languidly stroll in the hot Spanish afternoons, all rather pale and out of context in their new found surroundings. A sense of exile has as much to do with one's state of mind, as it has with that of physical geography, and absence can be as up close and personal as it can be distant via the reveries of guilt and memory. All these aspects play their part. It is a delightful collection of songs that reflect a concise and reflective nature at home with his gifts. Unhurried and lacking in the drive to court success, and all the better as it details a natural and effortless confidence. A statement of fact as opposed to a wish to impress. It does though both in charm and artistry, but without ever being showy. A perfectly sensual cup of tea, but one that will win over coffee drinkers, and those who prefer something a little stronger to warm and kiss their parted lips.

"And Another Day" has Kevin Ayers-like strummed languidness. Leisurely and almost louche it is the perfect opener as a hymn to a new twenty four hours.

"And another day begins

It's become so habitual

As I stare at the sky

Not a cloud passing by all the might haves.

Along the lane a car disappears

Leaving dust in the air..."

There is a poet in the heart of Howard's reflective lyricism, but his muse never overburdens his use of words.

"Echoes Of Pauline" contains a perfect atonement with the passing of time, and a different view of youthfulness arrogance and self-obsession. An apology through the years and a late-ruing of admission and regret.

"It's the frequency of thoughts

Of the friendship I once caught

Like a moonglow shining on a young horizon

Maybe you will hear this song

And feel that we can still belong to memories."

With "I'm Over You" there's the stride and verve of early Cat Stevens in his early Deram Records days. The song distills the the desire to move on whilst pretty much standing still by running amok, but makes the listener feel that singer might just be extolling his recovery a little too ardently. Some people never leave our souls completely even if we no longer love them and have to write a song aa a form exorcism.

"The rain fell down the window

Like a desolate month of tears

Washing away all the days

You said that you'd be here."

In "My Patient Heart" a cascade of British vignettes cascade and fall away into an admission of Spanish settings. Church bells and flowers and wistful reflections that suggest Dream Academy and "Life In A Northern Town."

Possessed by a McCartney style gusto 'Outlines' is a neat take on just how much we rely upon others to bring the colours into our lives

"When you colour me in

And create the substance

In the spaces between the outlines

Lowry-esque figure on a winter landscape

Anticipating beauty beneath you moving hand"

"Chime" brings a Brian Wilson good vibe to things. Part choral progression and part swooping melody it is a sweet meander with a certain cynicism at its deceptive heart.

"Well the winds do chime

And the feet do climb

As we leave behind

All the bad times....

And the bells do chime

And the sun does shine

As we read the signs

That will guide us"

A sense of pilgrimage, resigned and seeking a sensibility of need and its reward and satisfaction which leads neatly into "Injuries Sustained In Surviving" and a slightly folk-imbued kookiness. A series of rather English sentiments it has a vibe of Dylan misaligned to the lyrical content. It also suggest Simon and Garfunkel at their travelogue, observational best.

"Crazy situations in the middle of the station

I can't even remember my name

Someone's got my ticket

See a beach ball and want to kick it

'Cause I'm flying against the slipstream

On this godforsaken ride"

"Centuries" explores the pastoral folk element usually explored by Bill Fay.

"Beneath a hill stands a tree

It's been there for centuries

in the winter it becomes a web against the sky

In the summer it protects from burning light

we sat against the tree when we were lovers

and when the city called

It stood and watched us leave"

A perfect revelation of a refined awareness of time and its passing in baroque setting. A psalm-like elegance resides in its unadorned mastery. It carries beautifully in its concision. Exquisite.

"Illusions Of Happiness" is pure John Howard. Jaunty, accomplished, and strangely beguiling, but with an inherent classicism and refinement. Even when singing of cicadas in song he sounds perfectly English and one thinks of thrushes, nightingales and blackbirds.

"The blue of the ocean

The boats in the harbour

The shouts of the fishermen leaving at dawn

I stand for a second remembering something

It flickers for a moment like a forgotten song"

There is an almost chorister conceit to the pure and confident "Water" and a vocal that defies both age and time, perfectly underscored with a neat percussive undertow. Free of studio tricks and compensations, as indeed is the entire affair, it has a the spirit of Clifford T Ward at its centre as it pipes forward. The perfect closer, laced with melancholia, but a happy assured sadness, the kind that caresses and cures the heart and the head. A zen-like contemplation, both scenic and secular, and a prayer of sorts.

"A vast sky of constellation

Is my roof of dreams tonight

Lying listening to the sounds

From far off hills

In the middle of the lake

Lies something still"

To The Left Of The Moon's Reflection is a perfect gem of considered achievements. It is also the first album by John Howard to be distributed in America ( but his seventeenth collection) where he was only previously available as a prohibitively pricey import. A perfect calling card from, and a means of introduction to, an exceptionally English talent, deftly left on a silver tray, like in older days that we know were far from better, though they had a certain elegance. May he continue in his backward glances towards the country he once called home. His reflections bring reward to those that listen.

The fondness of absence and the grace of longing, quietly perfected.

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Young Is A Thorny Rose

Steve Holtje — Thu, 25 Jun 2020 14:52:08 +0000

Young Is A Thorny Rose Steve Holtje June 25, 2020 - 10:52

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Neil Young: Homegrown (Reprise)

There's a common therapeutic strategy: you write a letter to a person expressing your feelings, and then you don't send it.

But what happens if, 45 years later, you want to buy an expensive train set or whatever, so you sell the letter? That's basically the story of Homegrown. Young wrote and recorded it in 1974-75 while his relationship with Carrie Snodgrass crumbled, scheduled its release, and then withdrew it. To fill the gap, Reprise finally released Tonight's the Night, so that worked out well.

Over the ensuing decades, Young found places to recycle the best songs on Homegrown: "Star of Bethlehem" and the title track (the latter re-recorded with Crazy Horse and much the better for it) filled out the odds-and-sods side two of American Stars and Bars (1977), "Little Wing" showed up on Hawks & Doves (1980), as did Homegrown outtake "The Old Homestead." Young first gave "Love Is a Rose" to Linda Ronstadt, who hit the country charts with it in 1975; then Young's version was included on his 1977 three-LP retrospective Decade, a pioneer in the concept of using such compilations to let fans finally hear previously unreleased tracks. "White Line," a duo with The Band's Robbie Robertson recorded in London while on tour, was re-recorded with Crazy Horse for Ragged Glory (1990); the duo version has a certain off-hand charm.

All of which raises the question, how about the seven tracks on Homegrown that haven't been on an LP before?

The only entirely brilliant previously unheard track is "Vacancy," a full-band rocker that I'm surprised Young never recycled sooner. Perhaps he didn’t because it's so lyrically vicious towards, presumably, Snodgrass. Nonetheless, this by itself is enough to make me buy the album.

As for the rest, they sound like therapy and filler, though that doesn't keep a couple of them from being worthy of release.

The three therapy tracks lead off the album. Perhaps the first two could have been developed into better songs with some editing of the lyrics, which are often clunky and awkward, not so much art as merely morose musings. Okay, yes, some of Young's best '70s work could be characterized as morose musings, but not merely. The musings on "Separate Ways" and, especially, "Try" are just poorly written. From the latter: "Darlin', the door is open / to my heart, and I’ve been hopin’ / you won’t be the one to struggle with the key / We’ve got lots of time to get together if we try." And you’ve got to hear it sung to fully appreciate its awkwardness. Nor does the song get better than that horrible opening metaphor. The bridge: "And I try to wash my hands / and I try to make amends / and I try to count my friends." "Mexico" shows promise, but at 1:41, isn't developed into a full song. (A concert version was included on the obscure Young film Trunk Show.)

The most blatant entry in the filler is "Florida," which is Young talking (literally talking) about a UFO experience while somebody runs a wet finger along the rim of a glass, sounding like lazy feedback. After having heard it once, I've been skipping it ever since. "Kansas" is two barely there verses about a one-night stand; Young sings so quietly, it's almost as though he's embarrassed (though not so embarrassed that he didn't perform it live for Trunk Show). Almost elevating itself above filler is "We Don’t Smoke It No More," a blues that's musically attractive, with some good harmonica and guitar by Young over band backing -- but the minimal lyric is a drug goof. Fortunately the focus is firmly on the music.

So, the math. One excellent "new" song, two of interest, five we're already familiar with, one of which is an alternate version worth hearing, and four that do not live up to release-worthy standards. But I'll be purchasing it anyway.

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Song of the Week: "Parachute"

Webmaster — Thu, 21 May 2020 16:23:57 +0000

Song of the Week: "Parachute" Webmaster May 21, 2020 - 12:23

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From upstate New York comes this wonderfully heartfelt, sing-songy ballad "Parachute" by the indie folk vocal duo The Sea The Sea -- Chuck and Mira Costa -- from their forthcoming album from AntiFragile Music due in August. Music this catchy will find a much larger audience. Enjoy it and share it via the links on this page. Stay safe!