Sending Art Downstream

Sending Art Downstream

I’m sharing a link here to a wonderful Pitchfork essay by Galaxie 500′s (and Damon and Naomi’s) Damon Krukowski, on streaming and the economics of sonic art.  One high point: Damon’s observation that Galaxie 500’s first record was first released only as an LP, and his next will mostly likely be released only as an LP, because streaming music services like Pandora and Spotify have made the idea of selling one’s art for a profit obsolete.  For all the bands we love on Progarchy, my guess is they face the same economic hurdles, something David Longdon of Big Big Train shared with me at any rate: they make no money, it’s a labor of love they’re lucky they’re not losing their shirts on.  On a somewhat unrelated note, I love the convenience of digital, streamed music, but I also am skeptical of it satisfying the same benefits many of us (I think) got from the LP.  Rewarded patience, a linear experience as imagined by the artist, the tactile and visual experience of the sleeve…. If streamed music also means a watering down of the artist’s reward, my skepticism grows.

Craig Breaden, January 5, 2013

Truth Button by KingBathmat

Truth Button

Sometimes a band comes along that defies categorisation. KBm are such an animal. From the first listen the album aroused my curiosity and I strived in vain to ‘place’ it in my comfortable world of musical genres. That I failed to do so after repeated attempts is a testament to the diversity within Truth Button. As a result it’s taken me a long time to write this review (I’ve thought of little else for the last week!)

KBm are the brainchild of John Bassett, based in the UK. Truth Button is the band’s sixth album since 2003. I will be honest enough to say I had never heard of KBm before, so this was my first experience of their quite unique sound.

Truth Button has a loose concept and in the band’s words:

“…deals with an underlying theme of technophobia and social disconnection due to the ever-growing trivial use of modern technology”.

The frequent pressing of computer buttons has led to the creation of an illusory world but through the ‘Truth Button’ we can, if we wish, attempt to connect with the real world.

This theme is clearly referred to in some of the song titles and accompanying lyrics.

The mix of musical styles is eclectic and melded into an original sound. There’s a bit of Queen here and maybe Black Sabbath there and smatterings of indie and alternative rock (Queens of the Stone Age). At times the lead and bass guitar riffs are very grungy (Tool/Nirvana).  And they throw in a bit of Radiohead and Muse. The vocals however are generally light and punctuated with some nice harmonies.

Continue reading “Truth Button by KingBathmat”

Does Fun Belong in Music? Frank Zappa – Finer Moments

zappa-finer-momentsFiner Moments is a new release from the seemingly bottomless vaults of Frank Zappa’s music.  It’s been very interesting watching some of the early response to this release, as available detailed information regarding the recordings included on this 2-CD compilation has been sparse.  The hard-core fans are adulatory, of course, but I’ve also seen those predictable lukewarm comments to the effect that this is a release that is “only for the most serious fan.”  Translation:  “I think this is crap, but hey, I understand that if you’re a serious fan of X, then you will even want X’s crap.”

If you see responses like that, do not be fooled!  They come from folks who may appreciate some of Zappa’s work, but who do not really have the patience to plumb the sort of aggressively transgressive creativity that Zappa represented.  The recordings on Finer Moments, mostly (but not all) recorded live, are from the years of the original Mothers of Invention, between 1967 and 1972.  As with most of the best of Zappa’s output, they dance deftly along a fine line between composed and improvised.  They display very effectively, to my ear, the way in which Zappa flourished as a composer (which was primarily the way he understood himself) and as a serious artist (with a sense of humor rivaling that of Erik Satie) within the (in those days) strange and evolving framework of the popular “rock band.”

Indeed, though there are no “funny songs” (read: off-color and/or politically incorrect ditties) here, my most profound impression on listening is that this music is “in your face” in simultaneously wholly serious and wholly fun ways.  Listeners who love Frank’s orchestral and chamber works, and his work with synclavier, will be best prepared for what stirs in these early recordings.  There is an ethos of music-making here which insists upon the compatibility of an aesthetic gravity with a philosophical levity.  The enthusiastic involvement of the early members of the Mothers ensures that what Zappa called “the eyebrows” (what he noted was missing when he used the synclavier rather than live musicians) is amply manifested.

I’ve seen Zappa categorized as “Avant-Prog,” and whoever might want to argue in favor of that classification will find plenty of support on Finer Moments.  But I’m inclined to say that what it shares with all of the best so-called “prog” is its humor-laced and fun-filled but rigorous refusal of categorization.  Even if you don’t consider yourself a Zappa fan — perhaps especially if you don’t — give this a listen and see what you think.

 

Not Yet Knowing The Words (Part Two)

Songs have lyrics.  Unless they don’t.  And music doesn’t have to have lyrics.  Unless it does.

tool_lateralusWhat I’m thinking about again today is words (words, between the lines of age, as Neil Young sang).  “Beyond words” or “I can’t put it into words” are ways of calling attention to the wordiness of words, to the way in which words only word (sure, let’s verbify it too) when they waft and waver, when they have a warp and woof with those tiny spaces where something can dwell that’s not words but more like fervent wishes.  Tool’s Lateralus had words that arrested me on first exposure.  My rights were read to me by the first three songs I heard from that album (“The Grudge,” “The Patient,” and “Schism”), first passing by me like strangers that ignored me (and I them) but then they frisked me, cuffed me, and shoved me into the back of a completely unexpected and soundless squad car.  Wondering about the words, I went to the web.  There they were, all wordy and flat and what the hell is this anyway and it’s not like it strikes you as poetry when you read it there,  so there must have been some mistake.  But back to the music and there were the words again, but in the music Maynard made love to them.  Keenan keened them, you might say, and they writhed with a painpleasure that no “PARENTAL ADVISORY” sticker would ever cover.  It was the singer and the song locked in a tense embrace that made the meaning manifest.

All of this is about that clearing that I mentioned before, and it’s really about Spock’s Beard that I was talking before, and not about Tool at all.  It’s about the way in which the meaning that I want remains aloof, remains Other.  It’s about the way in which Nick D’Virgilio’s voice does the same sort of work with words that I encountered a while back in Maynard James Keenan.  A work with words in which the words are emphatically not tools.  They’re not simply “used” or “employed” in order to bring forth something else.  That’s the way we tend to think of words when we’re doing our everyday-saying, when we’re not singing but talking (hear Adrian Belew now?  It’s oooooooooonly TALK!), as if talking were something infinitely distant from singing.  (It’s really not, but we need the supposed contrast as a provisional intuition pump.)

SpocksBeardFeelEuphoria (1)

I’m listening today to Feel Euphoria, and the comparison to my first encounter with Tool (not tools) is like an insistent throbbing.  Throbbing, pulsing, thumping.  The drumming!  Of course!  The drumming and the singing are on especially intimate terms here.  That was going on in Tool in amazing ways, but here it’s amazing while also being much more subtle, a sumptuous sort of subtle.  And I would say even more tensely intimate, in a wondrous, meaning-making sense.  The artfully restrained but deeply athletic sonic synthesis of Alan’s Guitars, Dave’s bass and Ryo’s keys are a luxurious garden through which Nick’s percussion and vocalization can dance together, hand in hand.

And TENSIONS.  Such richly meaningful tensions arise here:  “Onomatopoeia” is blissful tension, because what “sounds alike” never truly sounds alike.  “The Bottom Line” is tension because the singer who looks for it is himself found by it.  “East of Eden, West of Memphis” is a glorious geographical tension.  And then there’s that guy named Sid.  Of course he’s an enigmatic tension (if I insert a Y and allude to Syd, can you Barrett?).  Nick sings in the first person, but at least part of the tension here is with that “first” designation.  It’s him, or it’s someone else I know or remember, or perhaps it’s even me, myself (an I).  Or it’s all of us.  Or maybe not any one of us in particular.  And the closing call to “Carry On”:

When your whole world comes apart
There’s a place for you to start

This was my place to start with Spock’s Beard, my place to go back and pick up on the words that, in my prior post, I did not yet know.  Today Tool provided a tool, but only a tool.  It was really about SB.  And another tension, too:  It was really about how we might listen to any words when they are words to a song.  But that’s not to say that such listening will always be rewarded, which is why it was really about SB, and (not to elevate unduly, but) about NdV.

So, those of you who’ve known all along:  Does this all sound right?  Or does it sound just wrong enough to make a tension that might be right?  Does it help to talk of the tension that emerges when one sings rather than talking?

The Royal Concept (2012) EP

The Royal Concept (2012) EP

My favorite EP of 2012 came from Sweden’s The Royal Concept. They hail from Stockholm.

You can download almost all of the EP for free from their page at SoundCloud.

Five great songs:

1. Gimme Twice

2. Goldrushed

3. Knocked Up

4. D-D-Dance (you can listen at SoundCloud but download from iTunes)

5. In the End

You can also check out the song “World on Fire” and a 3:32 remix of “Gimme Twice.”

File under: New Wave Prog?

Your move, Phoenix!

Kevin McCormick’s Squall (1999)

kcmccKevin McCormick, Squall (1999).  To my mind, this is some of the best rock music ever written—but tempered with very serious classical sensibilities and lacking the over-the-top bombast present in even some the best of 1970s progressive rock.

If one had to label his music, it would most likely be a post-prog, post-rock, or, simply put post-Talk Talk.  In the current realm of music, one might think of a mixture of Matt Stevens, Gazpacho, and Nosound.

McCormick incorporates his profound poetry as lyrics.  Each word—and the way Kevin sings it—seems utterly filled with grace and conviction.  This is part two of a rock/post-rock trilogy (he’s currently working on number three).  And, it’s hard to listen to Squall without listening to its equally fine predecessor, With the Coming of Evening (1993).  Kevin really has it all: a great voice, the ability to write poetry as lyrics, and the training of a classical guitarist.

Before I write any more, let me admit my bias.  Kevin is one of my closest friends, and he has been since we first met in the fall of 1986 as freshman at the University of Notre Dame.  We still talk and correspond frequently.  Kevin is the godfather of my oldest son, and I of his second daughter.

We bonded immediately on matters of music back in 1986.

Kevin and his two brothers had a well-known Texas band in the mid 1980s, and Kevin formed the finest band at Notre Dame, St. Paul and the Martyrs, during our years there.  Toward the end of our senior year, St. Paul and the Martyrs opened for the-then unknown progressive jam band, Phish.

During our years in college, Kevin and I traveled throughout the U.S. and England together (making sure to visit Trident studios as well as EMI (hoping to catch a glimpse of Mark Hollis) while journeying through the mother land of prog and New Wave), co-produced a “Dark Side of the Moon” charity show, complete with an angsty-movie backing a full performance of the album by the Marytrs, talked music and lyrics until late into the nights, and even co-hosted a prog rock radio show on Friday nights.

Not surprisingly, one of my greatest memories of Kevin in college was listening to the entirety of Talk Talk’s Spirit of Eden in 1988.  We remained completely silent for a very long time after its completion, stunned by the immensity of its beauty.

Kevin is extremely talented in a number of ways.  Not only is he the father of our beautiful daughters, but he has won national poetry as well as classical guitar composition awards.  In addition to the two post-prog albums (With the Coming of Evening and Squall) already mentioned, Kevin has also released several albums of solo classical guitar as well as an album of Americana, all recorded on an 1840s Martin.

His music has been praised publicly by many (see, for example, his entry at Allmusic) and privately by such luminaries as Phill Brown and Greg Spawton.

As of this afternoon, Kevin has finished mixing a Christmas CD, recorded with his oldest daughter on vocals, to be released next Christmas season.  And, as mentioned above, he is currently working on the completion of his post-rock trilogy.

Here’s Kevin’s music at CD Baby:  http://www.cdbaby.com/Artist/KevinMcCormick

Here’s Kevin’s official site: http://www.kevin-mccormick.com/KM/index.html

I know we at Progarchy have offered lots and lots of suggestions for worthwhile purchases over the last three months.  But, as we begin this near year, I can state unequivocally that it’s worth supporting Kevin, especially as he prepares to record his new post-prog album.  I’ve only heard bits and pieces, but Kevin is a man of absolute integrity.  He is, like so many of us who either play prog or simply listen to prog, a perfectionist.  He also possesses one of the finest senses of beauty I’ve ever encountered in another.  So, while 2013 will probably NOT be the year of Kevin McCormick in the prog world, 2014 almost certainly will be.

Certainly, Kevin’s album should be one of the most anticipated releases of the next two years.  It’s worth beginning to anticipate today, January 1, 2013.

 

***

 

Some video links:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=umMMJ4B-D6k

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kewac1nhue8

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fqsAcTs8KN0

The Strange Case of … (Best of 2012 — Part 10)

Halestorm

The final album in my Top Ten for 2012 is Halestorm’s The Strange Case of …, on which Lzzy Hale showcases her stadium-calibre rock voice and her split personality (“Mz. Hyde“): just as the album title alludes to Robert Louis Stevenson’s novella The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, the theme here is how a jaded maneater’s tough outer shell (tracks 1-4 and tracks 8-12) encases a true romantic hidden inside (tracks 5-7: the thermonuclear love ballads “Beautiful With You”, “In Your Room”, and “Break In”). This meta-concept album thereby allows Lzzy to showcase her softer side and reveal how her well-rounded, multifaceted rock talent has her destined for mega-stardom.

It’s been a massive year for Halestorm and they’re ending 2012 with a bang! It was just announced that the group and their song ‘Love Bites (So Do I)’ off of their latest album ‘The Strange Case Of…’ were nominated in the Best Hard Rock/Metal Performance category for the upcoming 55th annual Grammy Awards, taking place Feb. 10, 2013, in Los Angeles.

The accolades for Lzzy and her band are well-deserved. Her talent even registered on (my fave) Mike Portnoy‘s radar, as this year Lzzy sang with Adrenaline Mob on their impressive Omertà album, doing guest vocals on the track, “Come Undone” (which is a hilariously deadly reworking of the Duran Duran song).

I had reserved the last slot on my 2012 Top Ten list for Soundgarden’s new album, King Animal. But in the end, the album just didn’t make the cut. Carl has a great review of the album, and his analysis of the lyrics (through the lens of T.S. Eliot!) will no doubt have me revisiting the album in the months to come and reconsidering, since I pretty much paid attention only to the music and not to the lyrics. Hence it was the absence of killer guitar solos on King Animal that led me to give it the boot. That whole anti-guitar solo grunge mentality is too anti-prog in my books, and therefore a fatal flaw.

Don’t get me wrong, I am a huge Chris Cornell fan, but I like his Audioslave oeuvre the best, as well as his solo work. (Where does Soundgarden ever have the left-field magical moments of Audioslave’s Tom Morello guitar solos?) And I note that Carl’s review of King Animal spends way more time referencing great Audioslave moments than it does King Animal! For me, that was just confirmation that I was right to give Soundgarden the boot from my Top Ten.

For a while, The Cult’s unexpectedly amazing 2012 disc, Choice of Weapon (be sure to buy the bonus track version at the same price), was a strong contender for my Top Ten, thanks to standout tracks like “Lucifer”, “A Pale Horse”, “The Wolf”, and “For the Animals”. Only because The Cult is the band from the past and Halestorm is the band from the future do I give the nod to Lzzy over Ian. But both albums are solid, upper-echelon material.

I also toyed with the idea of putting Adrenaline Mob’s Omertà in the last slot of my Top Ten, because it has some tremendously accomplished metal. Mike Orlando’s guitar solos are astonishing, especially when combined with Mike Portnoy’s drumming. But the album is also a mixed bag. I found that I would carve it up into an EP for my playlists, because the only tracks that could consistently hold my musical interest were “Indifferent”, “All on the Line”, “Feelin’ Me”, “Come Undone”, and “Believe Me”.

So Omertà had to get the boot because it wasn’t solid from front to back. Yet by giving the final slot in my Top Ten to Halestorm, I get the best of both worlds — because Adrenaline Mob still gets paid an indirect tribute by way of my choice, thanks to their own recognition of Lzzy’s amazing talent (via “Come Undone”).

Halestorm

2012 has been a great year for music! A big thank you to all my fellow Progarchists for sharing their musical experiences here, thereby expanding my own.

I’ll see you back here on New Year’s Day, when I will reveal the name of my fave EP from 2012 — since EPs do not count towards the Top Ten list, which (in good prog fashion) I always dedicate to the recognition of the best contributions towards the keeping alive of The Art of the Album (and we all know who wins the top title for 2012 in that regard — Best Album of the Year).

But Is It Good? The Dreaded Year’s End List

Years ago, I had something of an obsession with the movie Jimi Hendrix, which was made shortly after his death, and which along with Bob Dylan’s Don’t Look Back got heavy rotation in the VCR (I had ‘em back to back on a fuzzed out VHS cassette).  Once, after watching it and glowing about it and Hendrix to my girlfriend at the time, she asked me, with a sly smile, “But was he good?”

It was a bizarre and funny question, a great question.  Because of course my first reaction, most people’s first reaction, to that question regarding Hendrix, would be, “Of course he was !#$*&^!! good!  You can’t get more good.  None.  None more good.”

But, she was testing me in a good way.  What she was asking, really, was did all that talent create something worthwhile? Shouldn’t received wisdom about art be less immutable than it often is? And suggesting, too, that even established (and dead) rock gods need new evaluation, continued consideration. This is why I think year’s best lists are something of a conceit and are really part of the pop world.  In reflecting on my favorite records of the year, I realize: there are no “new” artists in my brief list; only two of the albums were released this year; and, one of the albums is actually over 30 years old.  But ah well, nobody ever accused me of being at the cutting edge of pop.  I’m always just catching up.  These are the records that were new to me in 2012, would be of some relevance to the prog listener, and which answered in the affirmative the question, “But is it good?”

GaborSzaboIn Stockholm by Gabor Szabo (1978) – A jazz guitar master whose work with Chico Hamilton in the early 1960s landed him a solo career on the venerable Impulse! label, Szabo was at once an emblem of swingin’ 60s lounge pop and serious jazz improviser.  His Eastern European gypsy roots are all over his records, which typically capture Szabo working out a handful of originals against a backdrop of covers (these can veer towards the cheesy, but his cover of Donovan’s “Three Kingfishers” is stunning, and his interpretation of Sonny and Cher’s “Bang Bang” (with vocal!) absolutely without peer.  His 60s work is topped by “Gypsy Queen,” which a lot of us already know as the tail end/outro of Santana’s cover of “Black Magic Woman.”  Carlos loved his Gabor.  But instrumental jazz pop had a short shelf life, and the 70s saw the hits wane.  Szabo went back to Europe to record, and the album In Stockholm compiles two sessions, one recorded in 1972 and one in 1978, with Janne Schaffer (best known as Abba’s guitarist!) joining Szabo on guitar.  This is pure jam music, with rock and jazz getting equal voicings.  Bass and drums create droning, searching backgrounds on extended versions of Szabo classics like “Mizrab” and “24 Carat.”  The only distraction on the set is a nod to Szabo’s lounge-pop leanings, with the overripe chestnut “People” probably getting the best treatment it’s ever gotten but, come on, it’s “People who need people” and I personally don’t need it.  The rest of the double album more than makes up for this pale first track though.  This is first-rate stuff — really mindblowing.

BenAllisonThink Free by Ben Allison (2009) – I love Ben Allison’s work.  He’s one of the few modern jazz composers I keep up with, and his records always have something to say.  Think Free is kind of an amalgam of older and new compositions, with “Green Al” and “Peace Pipe” getting fresh makeovers with the addition of guitar by Steve Cardenas, who’s been working with Allison the last few years.  This is melody-driven jazz that never strays into smooth territory; if anything, it verges on rock (although not as much Allison’s wonderful Cowboy Justice from 2006).  The recording is organic, earthy, with Jenny Scheinman’s violin contributing an almost rustic feel to some of the tracks.  I caught up with Think Free late and since then Allison’s released Action Refraction as well, which is also great, but the nice thing about Think Free is that I think it stands as a great introduction to his work in general.

LOVE FC LThe Forever Changes Concert by Arthur Lee & Love (2003) – I may be preaching to the choir, I know, but if there is one rock album from the psychedelic era that has stood the test of time it is Love’s Forever Changes (1967).  A sonically bright, lyrically dark masterpiece, Forever Changes combined rock with smooth jazz, Spanish classical music, and garage punk, forging what is in my opinion the first American progressive rock record.  Arthur Lee, the cracked master behind Love, refused to tour outside of California, and never capitalized on the potential of Forever Changes or its two predecessors (both wonderful in their own way, and classics as well).  Jack Holzman, head of Elektra Records, has called Lee one of the few musical geniuses he ever met and signed (these are big, big words), but Arthur Lee could never translate that genius into success.  Drug problems, jail time, on-again off-again performances through the 70s, 80s, and 90s did nothing to help his legacy.  Then came word that he was gigging regularly with Baby Lemonade, a West Coast psych revival band who took their name from a song by another 60s casualty, Syd Barrett.  And in 2003, this band, with Lee fronting, performed the entirety of Forever Changes in London, a performance not only beautifully executed but also wonderfully recorded.  In fine vocal shape, Lee delivers on the promise of what Forever Changes could have been for him had he pursued it with such ferocity 35 years earlier.  That he got this down before he died is a gift to us all.  I’m embarrassed to say that although I’ve long been a fan of Forever Changes (easily in my top 5 of all time), I hadn’t heard this concert until this year.  So do yourself a favor….

CelebrationDayCelebration Day by Led Zeppelin (2012) – Like the Forever Changes Concert, Celebration Day captures Led Zeppelin performing one show, the Ahmet Ertegun tribute in 2007.  Of course, this Zep isn’t the Zep of yore, as John Bonham’s son Jason is behind the drums, but Jason Bonham has long been the replacement of choice for his legendary father.  The wonderful thing about live Led Zeppelin is that they are like they are on their records but more so.  Make sense? Jimmy Page and Robert Plant always tend, intentionally, towards the unpredictable, even messy — and make no mistake, this is an Art — and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.  It works here.  Celebration Day finds Plant, Page, and John Paul Jones in fine trim.  Robert Plant, working the lower register, has really never sounded better, and Page is, well, Page.  He is a master of infusing the big hard rock riff with soul, wit, and the hammer of the gods.  John Paul Jones, an absolute anchor, is in a way the real puppet master of this band.  He and Bonham tie down the dirigible that is Page/Plant.  This was one show, one take, with songs that speak to fans who wore out the deep cuts:  “In My Time of Dying” (really??? Yippee!!), “Nobody’s Fault But Mine,” “For Your Life”….  Although the band has been well-documented now regarding its live performances during its heyday, this is the best live Zeppelin I’ve heard.

david_sylvian_robert_fripp_damage_reissueDamage by David Sylivian & Robert Fripp (2002) – A fellow Progarchist turned me onto this record and I was immediately blown away.  Somewhat familiar with Sylvian’s work, and holding Fripp in high esteem for his adventurousness, my first reaction to hearing song’s like “God’s Monkey” and “Brightness Falls” was an affirmation that artists like Fripp and Sylvian do better working in pairs than strictly solo.  This live set, recorded during their 1993 tour, draws songs primarily from an LP they made together, The First Day.  Fripps poetics on guitar and “Frippertronics” are matched by Sylvian’s words and voice, and backed by Trey Gunn on stick (a sort of bass with a cazillion strings), drummer Pat Mastelatto, and guitarist Michael Brook, there is a confidence in delivery that comes from two artists well into the second, third, fourth phases of their careers.  The sound is hard, funky, emotive, the sound of Fripp and Sylvian unmistakable.  The set misses “Jean the Birdman,” which they did perform on the tour but is not included here.  Otherwise this is a gem, and I’m probably going to spend 2013 tracking down more on Sylvian.

StormCorrosionStorm Corrosion by Storm Corrosion (2012) – I reviewed Storm Corrosion on Progarchy this fall so won’t go into it in great detail, but I find it a marvelous collaboration.  Like Fripp and Sylvian, Mikael Akerfeldt and Steven Wilson seem to do better working in collaboration rather than as heading groups or as strictly solo.  Perhaps it’s the balance.  In any case, this is a rich and wonderful album I look forward to getting even more out of in the next year.

ReturningJesusReturning Jesus by No-Man (2001) – In preparing for my Storm Corrosion review, I came across No-Man, which I had never heard before.  A collaboration of Steven Wilson (instruments) and Tim Bowness (vocal), No-Man has made a lot more records than I’m comfortable thinking about because I’ve had my head in the sand this entire time.  On the other hand, there appears to be much to discover.  Returning Jesus is a great starting point.  This is slow, crooning stuff, and is much more in the vein of David Sylvian/Bryan Ferry British vocal music.  Wilson is restrained, and there is service to the song lyric here that isn’t present in all his music.  Romantic, rainy-day music, this could also be comfortable next to Johnny Hartman’s early 60s recordings.  Really, really prime.

Wild riverWild River by David Longdon (2004) – I reviewed David Longdon’s Wild River on Progarchy and really would like to give it another thumbs up.  Wonderful acoustic instrumentation and production accompany David’s supple vocal, on a recording that goes fairly effortlessly from British soul ala Seal to more rustic excursions reminiscent of Ronnie Lane.  I’ll be listening to this record a lot in 2013.

That about wraps it up.  I could say that in 2013 I’ll make more of an effort to listen to new releases, but that would be a cheap promise I wouldn’t have much interest in keeping.  I’d much rather pick and choose records I haven’t heard yet, and listen because they’re good.

Happy new year!

Craig Breaden, December 29, 2013

Congratulations, Progarchist Julie!

Our own progarchist, Julie Robison Baldwin, is now a married human!  Congrats, Julie.

 

progarchist julie wedding

Song Reflection: A Boy in Darkness

In the liner notes for English Electric (Part One), Big Big Train’s members offer us this comment on “A Boy in Darkness”:

Uncle Jack told David the true stories of how children suffered in the mines in the 19th century. Although there has been considerable progress there are still plenty of dark corners where children may suffer. This song is about shining light into those dark places.

Darkness.  I listen to this song, and questions bubble up from somewhere deep, dark, and hot.  I think of another song about darkness, with what I’ve always taken to be an allusion to the turning off (loss?) of a television:

Tube’s gone, darkness, darkness, darkness
No color no contrast
(Joni Mitchell, “The Hissing of Summer Lawns”)

It seems lame, making more words here from their already complete sonic poetry.  (“Lame” as my daughters pronounced many things when they were teenagers, but even more as in “the halt and the lame.”)  Will you forgive me this?  If it gets to be too much, and you stop reading, I’ll understand.

“Little Boy in Darkness”
(from photobucket.com)

Comparing one darkness with another is always such a problematic endeavor.  But here in this song we can hear more than one darkness, if we will listen.  If “progress” brings light to any darkness, it is always to some particular bit of darkness at a given time.  Even the light itself — the light that we literally see, anyway — makes shadows when it shines.  Shadows somewhere.

David Longdon’s voice rings in my ears with a pain that I don’t fully know myself.  But I have known well some who have known that pain, and so I am never more than one step away.  A friend, a family member.  I don’t know Godfrey Fletcher, but I do know this one, that one, and another one whom I cannot name here.  I cannot name them because their pain has in each case become a part of who she or he is, a self-shadow that will always follow.  It seems as though they must wear it like a kind of shame, even though the shame is really that of someone else.

Dark places.  A sense of place should be a sense of home, a sense of belonging.  One’s hearth.

Dark corners.  Corners are where one must stand, having been naughty.  When the darkness is brought by an Other, it becomes a verb, and one is cornered.

As I listened to this song this time, I heard an insistent silence that asked me what I might give to fuel the light.  I can watch news programs (“no color no contrast”), read online reports, furrow my brow and shake my head gravely for abstract children.  But how can I help to shine this light that is so desperately needed?  I KNOW persons — real, breathing, potentially bleeding friends, relatives, acquaintances — who must deal with darkness that is in no way abstract.  Could I be to them a light, yet also some relief from the heat?  A cooling light?

Mines are dark places where not everyone goes, where many did (and still do) avoid going.  Will I take this song as a call to go into some mine?  Will I know which mine I should enter?  Will I be able to see it as a mine?  Can I love a structure, call it home, if this means owning its dark corners?

Does something of me need to burn in order to bring some light?  Do I dare to face a part of myself that might have turned out not as father, but as “this hunter”?

Heart(h) of Darkness?

“The horror!  The horror!”