It’s been a good twelve months for Phosphorescent. As the end of year polls came flooding in towards the end of 2010, a whole load of praise was heaped on Here’s to Taking it Easy (No.25 in the TLOBF 2010 list, No. 5 in the Rough Trade Shops list). In the eight months since it was released in May, it’s become a firm favourite with critics and fans alike. Matthew Houck is naturally happy about this “I feel great about that. I worked hard on it” he says and agrees that it’s good to get the recognition.

Looking the very picture of laidback cool only an hour before he and his band take to the stage at Brixton Academy in support of The National, he’s excited about the show, but also very keen to get home. One of the drawbacks of having a successful year is that touring begins to take a toll. “We’ve been out eight months this year; eight months we’ve been away from home” he says, not obviously sounding like it’s a great hardship, so does he like life on the road? “I used to like it a bit more than now. Now I cherish the ability to be at home. I’m looking forward to slowing down. We’re going home in a week, I can’t wait for that.”

Phosphorescent are now performing to some of the biggest indoor crowds they’ve played all year and are certainly benefiting from The National’s massive rise in popularity. The tour is going well, and Phosphorescent are impressing the National’s fans. Matthew and the band have already played large venues this year in support of a rather less obvious fan – David Gray. The bobbing-headed singer songwriter may be much derided over here, but Houck is relaxed about the lack of cool factor. He’s happy that Gray’s a fan of his music. His love of the previous Phosphorescent album Pride led Gray to email, asking them out on the road. Matthew was happy to accept and by his account it was all good. “People like music” he diplomatically suggests.

The first time I saw Phosphorescent play it was in support of Akron/Family at Cargo three years ago. That evening Houck ended his solo set with a intense version of a song called ‘The Party’s Over’, which I later discovered was a Willie Nelson song. It was the first indication I had of his love for Nelson’s music, but I wouldn’t have expected a whole album of Willie covers to follow a year or so later. So how did To Willie come about? “It was kind of organic”, Matthew offers “basically all the songs on that record were favourites of mine for a long time, and I’d play them all now and again at my shows. When I saw the record [Nelson] put out called To Lefty from Willie, a light bulb went on and I thought ‘To Willie’! The idea came just like that”. It was easy choosing which songs too “There wasn’t a selection process. Once I knew I was going to do that record I knew what the eleven songs were.” Has Willie Nelson heard it though? “Yeah” Matthew smiles “a few months after it came out, Willie called my cellphone out of nowhere” and gave him the thumbs up. “It was a total honour.”

Given that Here’s To Taking It Easy continues in a similar countryfied vein, the obvious question is how much did To Willie influence what happened next. Houck reflects “It influenced it a little bit. The band is the same, so there’s a natural progression. The song ‘Heaven Sitting Down’ sounds like a Willie Nelson song, because I wrote it during the recording of To Willie – it just crept in there. I think that there’s been a little bit of a miscalculation in the press – the main thing that they picked up is that these records are different from what I did before, and I guess that Pride was the first record that most people heard. I’m aware that I put out two records that are country-ish but I think that the next record is going to veer away from all that. Phosphorescent is an album by album project. I like to find a vibe and spread it across the record.”

Click here to view the embedded video.

He’s right about the response to the nature of the past two albums. Certainly, there’s a shift in tone from the woozy late night reveries of Pride to the laidback country rockin’ of To Willie and Here’s To Taking it Easy.  But the interesting thing about Phosphorescent is the consistency throughout his recorded output. Onstage at End of the Road festival in September (“definitely the best festival we played this year”) the songs from Pride seemed perfectly comfortable dressed up in cowboy hat and spurs. And if anyone baulked at the horns when they first heard ‘It’s Hard to be Humble’ earlier in the year, they only had to look back to the 2004 album The Weight of Flight to hear more of those. The same record also has a cover of ‘My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys’, another Willie Nelson song. Phosphorescent is constantly evolving, but there’s a consistent thread running throughout. His songs evolve over time too “some of them drastically” he adds.

Phosphorescent is now a five-piece band, but it’s not always been so. Most of the earlier material was Houck on his own, writing, recording and performing. How did he make the move from being a solo artist to what’s happening now? “It happened really organically. There’s always been a strict division between the albums and live shows for Phosphorescent and I think that will be changing. A lot of the records I overdubbed myself and I don’t think that would be interesting live. I have the records in one world, and live shows in another. I enjoy having the celebration”

“I got the current band together for To Willie. Scott and Jesse and Jeffrey had been in and out of my band and on various tours but never totally worked out. But we started going after Pride and we gelled over a period of time. So when realised I was going to make To Willie, I knew I would do it with them. They’re amazing musicians.” This is all undoubtedly true, but can he see himself going back to solo performing again? “Yeah. You can only do one thing at a time, but yeah, I think I could.” Despite his uncertainty about that, Houck’s point about the difference between live and studio Phosphorescent is underlined by the fact that each album is worked out by Matthew alone, before drawing on the expertise of the wider band; “The writing and recording process is usually starts as a solo thing. It can take a long time and it’s a solitary endeavour, but then if I need a guitar part played out, I know I’ve got one of the best guitarists around that I can go to for that”

Matthew’s already mentioned a possible new direction on his next album, so has he started working on it yet? “I’ve done a little bit of recording but it’s mostly been just writing.” Given that he’s spent so much time on the road this past year, has he been writing whilst on tour? He shakes his head “I can’t write on the road. You can write snippets of stuff, but there’s just so much happening you need moments to gather your thoughts. I’ve got at least two records I want to make. Different records. I can’t wait to get back into the studio and get to work. I’m ready. If it was up to me, I’d like to make them real fast and get them out there.”

I ask what he’s listening to at the moment, perhaps to get an idea of where he might go next. The answer is a little surprising “I’ve been listening to a lot of hip hop and R’n’B. and also a lot of electronic stuff; more textured weird stuff. On tour we’re all listening to a lot of hip hop.” He doesn’t seem to be bullshitting either, because later in the band’s dressing room, hip-hop beats are indeed blasting out of a computer.

Finally, after the now-legendary tour bus theft incident in Brooklyn in July, I can’t resist asking how secure the tour van is these days. “Very secure” he laughs. It’s still incredible that the van was found intact later with nothing stolen. It must have been unbelievable to get all the stuff back. “Everything was still there. It was amazing” he recalls “it was the craziest rollercoaster of four days.”

And with that I leave him to get ready for the show. Onstage an hour or so later, once their set gets going, it becomes clear that Phosphorescent are already moving on. If the aforementioned End of the Road set was very in the Willie Nelson vein, this one is much more Neil Young. Not the Young of Harvest, but the searing guitars of Weld. It’s an awesome performance, Phosphorescent turned up to 11, which proves, as if it was needed, that wherever Houck goes next, whether it be country, hip-hop, guitar noise or experimental electronica, it’s going to be interesting and exciting. But expect there to be something reassuringly familiar about it as well.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Phosphorescent: ‘The Mermaid Parade’

Including last year’s set of Willie Nelson covers, this is Matthew Houck’s fifth album release under the Phosphorescent moniker.  After that enjoyable and fitting tribute this sees him once more presenting his own material (the first since 2007’s Pride), material which – happily – seems to be every bit as strong as before.

Don’t let the upbeat title mislead you though.  This is still Houck in hard-drinking, loving-and-losing, tortured and lovelorn mode, and all the better for it. Possessing a voice capable of depicting broken hearts, weary acceptances, wild times and tears, it would be criminal not to use its full scope to describe these emotions.  So we see protagonists in every mood, from ‘It’s Hard To Be Humble”’s cocksure defiance, to the downbeat fatalism of ‘Nothing Was Stolen (Love Me Foolishly)’ – “Well apart from the things I touched / Nothing got broke all that much”. Love (chiefly lost) is a major theme, particularly in the three song sequence of ‘Nothing Was Stolen (Love Me Foolishly)’, ‘We’ll Be Here Soon’, and ‘The Mermaid Parade’.  Houck’s vocal is at its most wistful, yearning and gorgeous on ‘We’ll Be Here Soon’ and the long, sad, elegiac ‘Los Angeles’ – the regret and sorrow audible in every note.

Another of the joys of this album rests in the intelligent, pithy lyricism. Couplets like “If I’m talkin’ to you mister, then you’d best be writin’ down what I say / If you’re talking to me like that then  you’d best be quickly walking away” from the excellent, jaunty yet still edgy opening track ‘It’s Hard To Be Humble..’ or the quite simply beautiful “Our hearts were on fire only two weeks ago / And our bodies were like live wires, down on the beach in Mexico” (‘The Mermaid Parade’) succeed in conveying a whole song’s worth of meaning in just a couple of lines, instantly drawing the listener into their world.

All this is accompanied by some lovely country music. Steel pedals wail, guitars and banjos are plucked and twang, tambourines rattle – always somehow augmenting and underlying the very human lyrical and emotional content.  ‘Los Angeles’ has a lusher, fuller, richer musical sound which swells and flows, and works well as the album closer.

Of the many highlights, particularly great are ‘It’s Hard To Be Humble…’, the laconic-cowboy-rhythm-meets-resignation-and-heartbreak of ‘Nothing Was Stolen…’, ‘I Don’t Care If There’s Cursing’ (nihilism! with brilliant rhymes!) and ‘Heaven Sittin’ Down’, reminiscent of another great modern country track, the Broken Family Band’s ‘Devil In The Detail’.  Probably best of all though is ‘The Mermaid Parade’, a story of the regret left behind after a relationship fails and ends (“And our two years of marriage / In two short weeks just somehow slipped away”), so realistic as to be heartrending, particularly in the repeated cries of “Oh, Amanda” or “Goddamn it, Amanda / Goddamn it all”. It’s enough, at times, to make the soft-hearted listener weep.

In short, then, this is a really amazing album.  Incredibly honest, very human, emotionally brave, musically coherent, with moments of real poetry.  Thoroughly recommended, with a tear in the eye.

Kristian Mattson (aka The Tallest Man On Earth) casually delivers the line “I plan to be forgotten when I’m gone” on the title track of his brilliant new record The Wild Hunt, but if the intrepid Swedish singer/songwriter keeps crafting such effortlessly charming albums, there is no way anyone who loves good music will ever forget him or his stunning songs. Mattson’s stark, unvarnished tunes are utterly captivating, with just his weathered vocals and sprightly guitar work guiding the intimately earnest tracks directly into the hearts of whomever is listening. With The Wild Hunt, Mattson’s first for Dead Oceans, he takes a bold step forward from his equally enchanting debut Shallow Grave, confronting and making light of the unending Dylan comparisons, while wisely moving beyond them in the same clever verse in the sublime ‘King Of Spain’: “And I wear my boots of Spanish leather, while I’m tightening my crown. I’ll disappear in some flamenco, perhaps I’ll reach the other side.” This record might entirely represent the ‘other side’ he mentions, but it clearly is rare air he’s occupying these days in the world of modern music.

Mattson again eschews the easy trappings of glossy production, sticking to the sparse, austere acoustic arrangements that worked so well on his debut. This time out, though, his dexterous fingerpicking and melodic strumming is given as much room as his vocals in the mix, guiding the songs forward more than his imaginative lyrics at times. The subtle addition of a banjo on opener ‘The Wild Hunt,’ is a welcome, albeit understated, flourish, and other than the mournful piano strains that guide the sublime closer ‘Kids On The Run,’ is the only other adornment to Mattson’s voice and guitar throughout the record. When you have superlative talents such as those, not much else is truly needed anyway. ‘Burden Of Tomorrow’ proves to be one of the poppier additions to Mattson’s catalog, but still resonates due to the insistently churning melody and his heartfelt vocals. The fact that the song could fit seamlessly on Nashville Skyline is a testament to Mattson’s talent as a songwriter, not a detriment or a burden as some writers have suggested.

One of the true joys I experienced while listening to this incredibly intimate album is realising, almost unknowingly, that I was tapping my feet perfectly in time with Mattson’s own on the glorious ‘The Drying Of The Lawns.’ His faint but unbroken rhythm heard in the background is something that a more heavy-handed producer would do away with, in favor of a smoother, more refined sound, but the fact that it’s left in the mix only personalizes the track, reinforcing the noble image of just one man alone in a room crafting these stately songs. That distinctive warmth is also present on ‘Troubles Will Be Gone,’ which sounds like Mattson is singing and playing directly in your ear, with the plucking of his guitar strings echoing in the spaces amid the silences. It’s simply a gorgeous song, highlighting Mattson’s estimable talents as a songwriter. It’s a simple formula, really; just a singer with his guitar making everyone swoon, and it’s certainly one that has been around for decades. But it takes someone truly accomplished to breathe new life into this often dusty musical technique, and this record is brimming with a fresh vitality and creative passion that makes this method sound new again.

‘King Of Spain’ is both the literal and figurative centerpiece of the album, with Mattson packing all of his dreams and aspirations into a relentlessly upbeat melody, before unleashing a soaring chorus that would make for a grand singalong in a live setting. The hushed tranquility of ‘Love Is All’ slows the second half of the record down a bit, but finds Mattson playfully bouncing his vocals on top of his subdued but still spry guitar work. The secluded Swedish landscape that Mattson retreats to while recording faintly colours all of these songs, with Kristian taking us along with him while he explores his placid surroundings: “Well, I walk upon the river like it’s easier than land.”

‘Thousand Ways’ and ‘A Lion’s Heart’ feature more muted arrangements in favor of focusing on Mattson’s plaintive vocals, and he really shines lyrically on these songs. Anyone who has survived a tough winter can clearly identify with these powerfully evocative lines: “In that land there’s a winter, in that winter’s a day. In that day, there’s a moment when it all goes your way.” We all need to cling to what can keep us warm during those frigid times, and the golden moments are indeed fleeting when the wind is truly up. Find solace where we can, he warns; and we would be smart to listen.

The record closes with the forlorn, piano-laden ballad ‘Kids On The Run,’ which acknowledges that mistakes have been made in the past, but he doesn’t say by who and doesn’t apologise for any of them. It ends the album solemnly but perfectly, ultimately unifying the listener with the songwriter, while hinting that it wasn’t Mattson at the heart of these songs anyway, it was a power far greater: “And the cold sky will write us a song, but will we ever confess what we’ve done? Guess we’re still kids on the run.” Even if we are all, admittedly, on the run, buying into the incessant quest for what’s new and what’s next, everyone needs to take a moment to slow things down enough to listen to the exquisite beauty of The Wild Hunt. The songs clearly won’t sort out your problems for you, but they might just make them vanish for a second, leaving some answers in the place of questions, and some new questions in the place of old beliefs.

The Tallest Man On Earth: “King Of Spain”

There are nights when you walk into a venue and there’s an unmistakable weight of anticipation, excitement and expectation hanging heavy in the air; when the pre-gig chatter is almost feverish and the smiling, eager faces in the audience tell you that an event of almost iconic proportions is about to take place. Such is the mythic figure of Kristian Matsson, The Tallest Man on Earth, whose presence on stage tonight at Bush Hall inspires a mood of almost religious fervour and devotion.

Matsson’s new record The Wild Hunt represents a marked contrast to his sublime debut Shallow Graves in both sound, subject and tone. The “I” of the first record appears to be less personal this time around as Matsson embraces elements of the narrative fantastical in songs like ‘The King of Spain’ and the album’s title track. More obviously, the somber heartbreak and overwhelmingly autumnal melancholy of the first record has been replaced in large parts by a blanket of the upbeat, freneticity prefigured by ‘The Gardner’, that lone bearer of happiness on the first record. The Wild Hunt is a summer record through and through, with Matsson cast as the victorious-in-love troubadour.

And boy, the guy’s as handsome as Jimmy Dean or a pre-bloat Brando – all cheekbones, rolled sleeves and and curled lip charisma. He’s a sparring boxer, two-stepping round the stage and wringing every drop of melody from his guitar, which he slings to his side on occasion, like a cavalryman between shots.

The songs from Shallow Grave are even more pronounced in their melancholy tonight alongside newer tracks. ‘You’re Going Back’, with it’s wailing, cautionary “Driver, please don’t go that fucking way!” is a purging, glorious highhlight, but it’s ‘Where Do My Bluebirds Fly’ and ‘The Gardner’ that get the most profound reception. There’s also a suprise duet with Matsson joined by the sublime Amanda Bergman (aka the wonderful Hajen and previously of Jaw Lesson).

It’s almost impossible to take one’s eyes from the figure on-stage. Matsson’s stage persona is a soul painted in equals parts as tortured folk singer, witty ranconteur and control freak – and I use that phrase with amelioration, for there is a quiet, determined and masterful control in all elements of his performance. It’s there in the way Matsson tunes up his guitar by ear, in the way he reaches for notes (vocal and musical) with both precision and exertion, and in the power he holds over the audience.

Through subtle hand gestures, deathly stares, darting eyes and occasional spoken challenges, Matsson ensures that any interruptions to profound and quiet moments are kept that way. He leans out into the hall, listening for the reverberations and echo coming right back at him. But it’s not about disconnection from the audience – quite the opposite. Those of us in the front rows are treated to moments of spine-tingling intimacy as Matsson lurches over his guitar and plays his heart out, inches from our faces. We become an essential part of the equation, as if the music simply doesn’t exist without hundreds of collective ears and eyes to validate it.

Whether there’s a quiet catharsis going on inside that twisting brow and gurning yelp is anyone’s guess. Perhaps there are terrible demons and beatiful angels inside Matsson but he’s channelled them with a grace and perfection into his songs and performance – a skill of such rare commodity in these times.

All I have to do is think of Pride, Matthew Houck’s staggering second outing as Phosphorescent, and I get a lump wedged deep in my throat. Within the eight dark, meditative hymns lay a ghostly figure at large; haunting Houck’s deeply personal musings and rattling between every softly sung word. It carried the same emotional depth as Bon Iver’s For Emma, Forever Ago (self-released by Justin Vernon the same year) but perhaps didn’t possess the same commercial chops that led Vernon’s debut to become a worldwide phenomenon.

If Pride was the dark side of Houck’s alter-ego Phosphorescent, then Here’s To Taking It Easy – the new album due for release in May – is most certainly the light. Perhaps inspired by last year’s Willie Nelson covers record To Willie, Taking It Easy reveals a new country inspired direction for Houck.

Today’s Song Of The Day, “It’s Hard To Be Humble”, acts as a perfect introduction to the record.  Four to the floor drums, kick horns and a rip roaring pedal steel guitar recall Gram Parsons’ “Ooh Las Vegas”, Uncle Tupelo’s “Chickamauga” or Wilco’s “Monday” – three classic country tracks that boast Gram Parsons’ vivid image of a Cosmic American Music. A sound that many Americana acts try to emulate but few manage to execute without sounding like a cheap homage, or worse, a bad bar band.

“It’s Hard To Be Humble” is the Cosmic American Music that Gram Parsons fought so hard to achieve back in the late sixties. A cross-over of country, soul and rockabilly played with such aplomb and swagger all you need do is sit back and let the good times roll. After the heartache and demons that made up Pride, it’s really all you can do.

Phosphorescent: “It’s Hard to Be Humble (When You’re From Alabama)”

“I think everyone has had a special moment when, just as it’s happening, you know that it’s significant and delicious just because it’s going to be over soon,” explains White Hinterland singer Casey Dienel on the title of upcoming album, Kairos. A reference to the Ancient Greek concept of the ‘supreme moment’, it is a fitting philosophy, one that has influenced her approach to making music. “It’s used to describe a unique event, one that sits outside of sequential time and floats in the ether. I really related to that idea and felt like making this record was my very own ‘Kairos’.”

Her second album under the White Hinterland moniker, Kairos surely stands as one of the most achingly beautiful records to be released this year so far. For the first time, Dienel and musical partner Shawn Creeden delve into electronica – with results nothing short of impressive.

“I wondered what would happen if we started to take his perspective of looking at things, because Shawn doesn’t play any conventional instruments and I come from a very disciplined musical background,” explains Casey over the phone from Portland, Oregon. “I think that when the two collide there is some sort of magnetism that feels special. Shawn seems to be able to apply a Midas touch and show me that what I’m doing is magical.”

Golden is perhaps the easiest way to describe what White Hinterland have crafted on this effort – neatly polished but not over-processed, Dienel’s longing, ethereal vocals wash over Creeden’s cautiously crafted synth textures and lower-than-heartbeat drum murmurs, swelling to create utmost musical beauty. Shades of Beach House and Cocteau Twins permeate, but through its understated otherworldly pop, Kairos manages to sound overwhelmingly unique.

A classically trained musician, Casey attended the prestigious New England Conservatory of Music before leaving to pursue her career, eventually settling in Portland. “I’ve moved a lot in my life, probably too much, so the concept of home is quite a strong theme on the record” she muses. “I think no place I have lived in has been perfect, but Portland is the place where I’ve found I can feel the most myself, which is strange because I think I’m learning about myself all the time. Everything keeps changing.”

Since the release of her 2006 debut under her own name, Wind-Up Canary, it is indeed clear that Dienel has undergone a significant musical transformation. From these tentative first steps, she has managed to transcend rigid singer/songwriter tags and establish herself as a more mature, more soulfully aware chanteuse. Emerging from truss-like labels did not come quickly, however. “One of the first labels I went to really wanted me to play piano and sing like Regina Spektor which made me think, ‘If you want Regina Spektor songs, why don’t you just sign her?’ Inevitably, artists do sound similar, but I think trying to sound like someone else is strange.”

Dienel has since found comfort in the ethic of US indie Dead Oceans, also home to the likes of Phosphorescent and Califone. Her first release on the label, Phylactery Factory in 2008, also marked the adoption of the White Hinterland moniker. “I really wanted to be able to hold my own steering wheel and for some reason I felt like changing the name would help me do that,” she explains. “I chose White Hinterland because it sounds like a place I would want to go to, with a lot of space to test things out. To me, it’s somewhere calm, beautiful and assured of itself.”

Perhaps the release of Francophone EP Luniculaire shortly after Phylactery Factory stands as a charming manifestation of newfound self-assuredness. Luniculaire (a crafty portmanteau of French words that come together to suggest ‘moon train’) features not only takes on Serge Gainsbourg, Brigitte Fontaine and Françoise Hardy but two original compositions, also in French. “It’s sexy! I think when I first studied French that was one of the reasons I stuck with it!” she laughs. “French sexuality is maybe a big cliché, but I just think it’s wonderful. I think to be a real singer you have to know your body and be comfortable with yourself, otherwise you’re almost like a body that has no spine.”

Dienel’s restless, angular interpretation of Monsieur Gainsbourg’s ‘Requiem Pour Un Con’ somehow manages to embody the roguish spirit of the man himself, despite her own gentle croon and fragile observational lyrical output often representing something altogether more saintly.

Her penchant for taking the works of others and twisting them magnificently into her own possession have not stopped there. A spellbinding cover of Arthur Russell’s ‘Lucky Cloud’ can be found sitting neatly alongside a ghostly interpretation of Justin Timberlake’s ‘My Love’ on a tour EP released last year.

“I like that in Arthur Russell’s music there’s an immediate sense of pleasure that you can also get from listening to Justin Timberlake. I don’t categorise; I get the same kick out of ‘Single Ladies’ as I do listening to Stravinsky. It’s all pleasure.” When applied directly to Kairos, “all pleasure” is a fitting sentiment. Tender, enigmatic, and almost mythical, White Hinterland have crafted something special; not often does minimal electronica succeed like this and remain so heartfelt. Very much like its namesake, Kairos captures a supreme moment, one that deserves to be devoured.

Anyone who grew attached to Shallow Grave, the gorgeous debut record from The Tallest Man On Earth (aka Kristian Matsson), has been waiting patiently for a new full length from the supremely talented Swedish singer-songwriter. And with the release of his follow-up, The Wild Hunt, scheduled for April 12th, the three year wait is nearly over. The new record finds Matsson growing bolder and more expressive, both lyrically and musically. But when you have such an impeccable combination of insightful words and penetrating music as Matsson does, there is really no need to reinvent the wheel at this point. Fans of his first album will most assuredly take great pleasure in The Wild Hunt, an album that will not only galvanize his dedicated supporters, but should appeal to a whole new audience drawn to the purity and honesty of his music.

We were fortunate to have the opportunity to be able to ask Kristian some questions about how the recording process for the new album was affected by his changing record labels, how recording in the countryside influences his writing, and he shockingly reveals, once and for all, that Bob Dylan is actually his dad. He shares just enough to give his fans a glimpse into what inspires him, while still maintaining the mystique that has intrigued us all from the beginning. But in the end, it’s his splendid music that ultimately speaks to us, so look out for The Wild Hunt on April 12th.

The Wild Huntis a really beautiful, quietly assertive album. I’m wondering if changing record labels or the critical success of Shallow Grave affected your approach to the new album at all?
No, I guess it’s just about trying to make another album that hopefully could be of use for someone. Of course you have your lows when you get confused over what is happening, and think about what people expect in an album from you. But those kind of thoughts needs to be chased away. They will surely mess up your songs. I was glad to find I could get rid of them and get ten songs recorded that just felt like the right ones to do. The only thing that was really different this time was the fact that I had to write and record the album while being in a turmoil of touring all over and taking care of private life in between tours. It’s written in many different places and states of mind, and I can definitely hear that in the finished recordings.

Is the “Boots of Spanish leather” line in ‘King Of Spain’ you having a bit of a laugh at all of the Dylan comparisons cast upon you? How do those lofty comparisons affect you, if at all?
You got me! And Bob Dylan is actually my dad, did you know that?

They don’t affect me much, I’m not trying to hide his influence on me and how it’s given me energy and inspiration to try write good songs and do good live
shows since I’ve was 15 years old.

Your delicate guitar playing has always impressed me, and it’s even more pronounced on The Wild Hunt. Do you start with the melodies and work your lyrics in wherever they fit? Or, do you craft your lyrics like poetry and try to build songs around them?
Thank you. It’s really hard to describe that process. I’m sorry. Sometimes it’s the first way around, sometimes the second. And sometimes you just don’t
know what the hell just happened!

How much kinship did you share with Justin Vernon when you opened for him in the States, since he also retreated to a secluded house in the country to record his debut album? What is the draw and influence of that isolation and solitude on you, and how does that impact your songwriting?
Maybe I shouldn’t speak for Justin, but maybe there’s a more simple answer to this than you’d think. I don’t think it’s so much about some special
isolation, hiding in the the woods, Walden pond or whatever. I guess we’re both from the same kind of countryside, and for me it’s a lot about getting away from unnecessary disturbance and heavy traffic to get more stuff done. Growing up around here makes nature a part of your element, and that helps me to gain power to create. Someone from the city might instead be bored or freaked out about it.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Do you draw inspiration from film, literature, fine arts or even other music while you are writing or recording an album? If so, who are some of your favorites, and how does their work cause you to rethink or modify your creative process?
I listen to tons music all the time, and that inspires me a lot. stuff sneaks into your songwriting without you even knowing it until after. Books, articles, conversations, it all melts together and there you are, with some new songs. Most often you find traces of inspiration in your songs that you never could have planned. Like the fact that it was playing around with an old Sade song that somehow fooled to me write ‘You’re Going Back’.

How has touring the world and playing shows in places you’ve perhaps never dreamed of performing influenced your approach to songwriting?
Its hard for me to talk about any certain approach because I’ve always just tried to do it. To write a song. After that, tried to make another one, even better. I guess what this touring thing does to me, is the fact that you get a lot more input to build on.

There isn’t a whole lot written about you, personally, on the internet. Most of what is out there is about your music. Is that an intentional endeavor on your behalf? How important is it for you to be judged by your songs alone, as opposed to your style or any scene that you’re associated with?
Of course I think that it’s the songs and the performances that should be “out there” to be judged. I don’t want to think about styles or scenes someone might want to associate me to, I find it kind of draining actually when I hear about it.

It seems that the typical music fan isn’t nearly as loyal as they once were, moving on to the next thing while discarding an artist they once loved. Are you worried about longevity in an industry that seems to be constantly searching for the ‘next big thing’ as opposed to being faithful to an artist from one album to the next?
I’m not too worried. I don’t know if it’s the typical music fan you’re talking about. Maybe it’s just the loudest. I’ve met a lot of great people out there and can only hope they’ll give the new record a couple of spins before they decide if it’s better to move on or not.

A lot of the appeal that your music has, for me, is it’s simplicity – just one man, one guitar, one voice. Do you ever wish that you were playing in a different era where those type of talents were held in higher regard, both commercially and critically? Or do you think the people that connect with your music are so tired of the auto-tuned, fabricated style of music that they are searching for something simpler, something honest?
No, I don’t wish I was playing in some different era. Of course there’s a lot of music being made for mainly commercial interests, but I consider myself real lucky to be living right now when you can actually turn that off, and that there are so many ways to find new, great music instead. There are so many awesome records being released every month.

The Wild Hunt will be released on April 12th via Dead Oceans. The Tallest Man On Earth will perform at Bush Hall, London on Monday 15th March.

mp3:> The Tallest Man On Earth: “King Of Spain”

This has to be one of the most exciting signings I’ve heard about in a long time. Full details from Dead Oceans HQ below…

When fans lined up to see the sold-out Bon Iver performances at New York City’s Town Hall in late 2008, few of them went with any expectations of the opening act. But the audience that night, and on every other night of Bon Iver’s tour that December, was introduced to something special, something unforgettable: THE TALLEST MAN ON EARTH. This was the first of several tours for the Tallest Man on Earth (aka Kristian Matsson), with obsessive crowds growing each step of the way.

Earlier in the year, The Tallest Man on Earth had released one of 2008’s most powerful records, one that Pitchfork praised, calling Matsson “a natural-born folksinger, earnest, clever, and comforting.” Shallow Grave could not have been more simple, just Matsson’s commanding vocals with an acoustic guitar or banjo, recorded at his home in Dalarna, Sweden. Although the album was released on the Swedish label Gravitation without the help of widespread distribution, the story of The Tallest Man on Earth spread far and wide through word of mouth.

It is impossible to discuss The Tallest Man on Earth’s music without acknowledging Bob Dylan. The seemingly effortlessness, the melodic sensibility and the deft lyricism all recall Dylan’s early years. But when you witness the Tallest Man on Earth perform live, you are watching a man possessed. The energy pours out with every word. Full of intensity and raw emotion, he paces the stage, bringing the audience into the palm of his hand, completely lost in his songs.

With unbridled excitement, we bring you The Tallest Man on Earth’s second LP, The Wild Hunt. It is all here: The words. The voice. The melodies. Ten perfect songs.

The Wild Hunt will be released on April 12th via Dead Oceans.

The Tallest Man On Earth will perform at Bush Hall, London on Tuesday 15th March.

mp3:> The Tallest Man On Earth: “King Of Spain”

Chicago based Califone get their moniker from a manufacturer of audio equipment. They are an experimental band of musicians headed by main man Tim Rutili (formerly of band Red Red Meat). Quite a prolific band and their experimental nature is apparent with an off beat slow electro jazz workout on album opener ‘Giving Away The Bride’. They remind me of the more recent, less hip hop orientated stylings of Beck.

They are an interesting band as they play with a variety of styles; there is a very strong Americana country rock feel, but with elements of ambient electro and noise as well as Jazz. ’1928′ is slightly more lo-fi space country in a similar vein to Yo La Tengo. Rutillis voice has a lot of character and gives the songs that small town Americana atmosphere, despite them being from the metropolis that is Chicago. The title track (or part title track) is straight forward three chord country song, which again is quite brilliant in itself.

The band began working mainly writing instrumental music for soundtracks in the early 00’s (look into the deceleration series 1 and 2), interestingly enough this album is accompanied by a feature film in which will also have a separate soundtrack. The film, of the same name, was written and directed by Rutilli and is about a psychic woman who lives alone in the woods and is haunted by trapped ghosts. More often than not it seems they like to delve into the unconscious and supernatural spaces as a muze for their records. They still remain very stripped down in their use of electronics, it all contributes to a very natural sound. Nothing is over extrapolated.

Between their experimentalism and the more straight forward side of Califone they have the ability to mix it up but keep it cohesive and enjoyable. A song like Krill has all the hallmarks of a classic heartbreaking country song, fabulous simple eerie guitar back line gives that ache of melancholy. I don’t know about you but those kind of songs are stonewall brilliant in any mans heart. The you’ll have something completely obtuse to that with the decidedly odd interludes that crop up such as the aptly surreal ‘A Wish Made While Burning Onions Will Come True’, and the quite marvelously titled ‘Snake Tooth = Protection Against Fever’ and ‘Luck In Gambling’.

What is very obvious now is that Califone have their very own unique take on very American styles of music. Elements of blues, country and folk all interspersed with sparse electronics and atmosphere. They take these very traditional styles and make something slightly off keel with them, such as fluttering a little calypso steel drum amongst the album finale ‘Better Angels’, one of the best tracks on the album, ambient country finesse. The little extra ideas that Califone express in their music make them special and the only sensible things for you good people to do is go out and get this record.

Buy the album from Amazon | [itunes link="http://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewAlbum?id=332593557&s=143444&uo=4" title="Califone-All_My_Friends_Are_Funeral_Singers_(Album)" text="iTunes"]

Upper Air is of a similar quality to Bowerbirds first album Hymns For A Dark Horse, but reached by a slightly different path, the lyrics focus on relationships and love and being astounded by nature, sometimes in the same song. A more varied musical approach is also pursued, with things like organ, autoharp, varied percussion (less of a reliance on the ol’ bass drum) and upright bass being utilized with some interesting acid etched results, whilst still retaining a basic rustic folkiness. This is a clean sounding album, guitar tone, vocal, violin and that upright bass all beautifully presented.

Mark Paulson has left, or is perhaps less involved in Upper Air, in his place is Matt Damron who is listed as ‘drummer’. No doubt about that as there’s more kit audible, (cymbal and snare, for example), the bass drum is still there, it’s just usually paired up with the newer percussion (‘Beneath Your Tree’ being a good example), when it’s not trying out new approaches like the long rumbling thunder in ‘Ghost Life’, ‘Crooked Lust’ and ‘This Day’ (as opposed to the usual thump-thump-clack). It’s good to see the band trying something new out, like the thick organ droning in ‘Chimes’, or stunning upright bass in ‘Bright Future’, and even better when it blends in well with the already established aspects of their sound.

It’s fair to say that the last album was about nature, either damning human neglect of it in ‘Marbled Godwit’ (just one song of many in that vein), weaving a pleasant fantasy world with it in ‘Burr Oak’, or coming from a non-human perspective in ‘Hooves’ and ‘My Oldest Memory’. This sensibility is retained throughout Upper Air, but used in different ways, by far the most common theme throughout is Moore trying to better understand and relate to the listener humanity’s (Moore’s) place and connection to the world and the cycles of things. ‘Teeth’ has lines like, “Oh, and the fleeting sun/Oh, the wild, gold beauty/So consumed, so removed/In the far reaches”, paeans to nature. More personal pronouns appear, “In my great sun/without boundaries/My love’s a giant welt/My heart is burning” and “You are strong and sure without me/You are boldly dismantling” grounding the lines to a person and their perspective, the latter line also alluding to the timelessness of nature, which also pops up briefly in ‘Crooked Lust’, “I live with the tides/I live in reverence/And know the days are endless, endless/But, darling, you seem like you’re anxious”. ‘Chimes’ sees Moore feeling a connection to all that was, “I draw my breath from an ancient earth”, all that is  “Oh the light is astounding/Like a sulpher cloud amongst these stately pines” and all that will be “Well, I could hold my gaze just steady/And in a thousand years we’d barely think the same”. He reveals how he feels insignificant in comparison “Well, this is my joy spiralling/These are my spoils for simply breathing”, almost unworthy “Still for all my faults/I draw my breath from an ancient earth”. ‘Northern Lights’ also covers this ground with the lines “And I do need the wind across my pale face/And I do need the fern to unfurl in the spring/And I do need the grass to sway/Yes I do need to know my place”. ‘House Of Diamonds’ could easily be added here too.

With a trilogy of connected songs in the middle of the album the personal takes centre stage, from wild beginnings in ‘Beneath Your Tree’, to a more steady and lasting romance in ‘Ghost Life’ and dewy eyed sweetness in ‘Northern Lights’, we get a look at parts of a relationship (Moore and Tacular’s?). What connects these songs, apart from a clear narrative that gradually turns more and more into Moore’s perspective/narration as each song passes, is the imagery of a shared look. In ‘Beneath Your Tree’ wild and lusty declarations are traded between Moore and Tacular, “I could bleed, bleed, bleed for days/But my heart would still beat for you dear”, before reaching a point of crisis, “And we’re soon lost/And we’re terrified“, which is suddenly and beautifully calmed, “But I’ll always find my way to your eyes“, this last line brings all of the lust and wildness in the dueting and traded verses down to a point where a real lasting connection is revealed between the two people. This opens up the next two songs where the implication of a more permanent connection is played out. ‘Ghost Life’ starts out with echoes to the last song where big declarations are made “At the margins of the land I get to know your skin/Where the sand dunes slope into a wild ocean/Where the great plain heaps into a jagged mountain”, but a more realistic tone enters soon after, “And yet some days we are stones cold and stuck/Whether in time or place or head or heart/But dear we’ll never feel the years with the wind at our backs” (a little reminiscent of ‘Dark Horse’ from the debut). This is the relationship maturing and becoming stable, and as a result the declarations are somehow more powerful and concise, “Love/Shapeless love/Wild, tireless love/Fast in the free ether/Ghostly white/And seething hot“. The eyes return, ‘Swift to the backs of our eyes/Deep wanting eyes”, confirming the connection to the previous song and the one to come. Tacular dueted, and even had a couple of lines, in ‘Beneath Your Tree’, and had brief backing vocals on ‘Ghost Life’, but ‘Northern Lights’ is completely from Moore’s perspective. Forsaking those lusty declarations of the last two songs, he says “I don’t need from you a waterfall of careless praise“, showing how the relationship has become more comfortable and contented with neither needing to impress the other. The softly romantic “But all I want is your eyes/In the morning as we wake/For a short while”, finally ties all three songs together.

Bowerbirds manage to hit some rarefied heights on this album, both in lyrics and music. The cascading play of ‘Crooked Lust’ is delightful, ‘Northern Lights’ has an acoustic strumming that’s like a cross between early Bob Dylan and playfully lapping waves, the off-key plucks in ‘Teeth’ which could be a violin, and more. As I was saying at the start, this new album is of a similar quality to the debut, but different. The lyrics are about inter-personal relationships and trying to understand ones life and ones surroundings, it’s nice to escape to a place where someone is actually trying to answer those sorts of questions for themselves, and the music is more open and diverse, with the band trying out new textures and ideas. Upper Air is nothing less than a big success.
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mp3:> Bowerbirds: ‘Northern Lights’

Bowerbirds on MySpace

When an indie rock album lists flute, orchestron, nyckelharpa, a pump organ, a vibraphone and rabbit holes among its instruments, it would seem fair to assume the record is going to be pretty far out. However,  John Vanderslice’s seventh full-length studio album, Romanian Names is nothing of the sort. In fact, it feels controlled and thoughtful; this is music for grown-ups. Like Grandaddy.

After a number of concept albums, including 2007′s Emerald City-about 9/11-Vanderslice has, in a sense, changed tack for this, his first record on Dead Oceans.  It’s a collection of twelve songs about love, specifically about how close relationships can be like looking into a mirror. In a Progress Report with Stereogum in February, Vanderslice said that “a lot of the songs are about that mirrored self and that almost suffocating thing that happens.”

It could be seen as a concept album about romantic love, and losing it.  We have the “boy meets girl” of ‘Tremble and Tear’ or ‘Fetal Horses’ “boy seduces girlfriend’s friend.”  ‘Too Much Time’ addresses the tried and tested “boy sits on the beach with a rolled up sleeping bag thinking about a girl”, and then there’s ‘Romanian Names’ hoary old cliche “boy praises a girl olympic athlete for getting back on the balance beam, even though she’s just fallen off.” I joke-these are without doubt, very personal songs.

Vanderslice has also stated that it was an attempt to make a pop album, influenced by the Beatles’ Magical Mystery Tour and Of Montreal’s The Gay Parade. All of Romanian Names‘ songs come in at around the three minute mark and the harmonic and intstrumental writing are reasonably engaging.  However, although there’s a fair bit to pay attention to, only some Les Dawson-esque piano playing on ‘Fetal Horses’  and a smattering of unusual percussion initially grabbed my attention. In fact, interesting ideas seem to have been buried, and much of the song-writing doesn’t feel particularly strong. The melodies are pleasant, and more often that not, Vanderslice’s vocal line is doubled or harmonized, which is very agreeable. The trouble with that is, when he sings lyrics about an ex such as ‘I tracked down your friend and won her over slowly, then I walked away, hope it gets back to you someday,’  followed by a breezy “la la la la la, la la la la la” it’s thoroughly unconvincing. He doesn’t sound like he’d dare do anything of the sort.

For a long time, Vanderslice has been one of the most consistent-and underrated-indie artists around; any of his previous albums are well worth seeking out. As for Romanian Names, it has an insdisputable sincerity and is a commendable attempt to do something different. It’s a shame then, that this slice of romantic indie/alt-country rock isn’t really anything to fall in love with.
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John Vanderslice on MySpace

A frayed, tattered American flag adorns the cover of Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free, with the fifty stars of Old Glory replaced with a cosmic, tie-dye swirl. This is important, because in Akron/Family’s work the constant friction between collectivism and individualism is at large, and much of their work concerns itself with interconnectedness between nature and humans. When questioned on how they view their music Miles Seaton (one of three multi-instrumentalists in the band) replied “The music functions simply as a sound or a sonic story of a communal structure”.

This sense of togetherness, of how we relate to each other, is experienced in the chaotic group vocals of opener ‘Everyone Is Guilty’. Phrases are repeated until they become mantra. Full of throat and heart, they almost cling to each other, no surprise given that after 2007′s Love Is Simple founding member Ryan Vanderhoof left to join a Buddhist centre. One of the less imperceptible lyrical fragments on the album is “Last year was a hard year for such a long time”. Losing a founding member has that effect on bands, and you could forgive them for untethering themselves in the aftermath of an admittedly amicable split, but in this case it has re-enervated Akron/Family. Seth Olinksy moved from Brooklyn back home to rural Pennsylvania (also the childhood home of third member Dana Janssen), and in doing so the band have discovered a sensitivity and optimism. The response to the line goes “This year’s gonna be ours”, and the whole album is imbued with this sense of hope.

Musically they oscillate between styles, from the heavily percussive, Afro-inflections of ‘Everyone Is Guilty’ to the pastoralisms ‘Set ‘Em Free’ and the more mood based programmed electronic subtleties of ‘Creatures’ to full on hypnotic psychedelia on ‘Gravelly Mountains Of The Moon’, a heroic and non-ironic prog song title, to the fuzzed-up freak garage on ‘MBF’. They can lithely and quickly switch between these styles and genres, a key component of the multi-instrumentalist’s arsenal. The overall dynamics of the songs contribute to a much broader and coherent aural canvas, and the constant segues and juxtapositions between styles are well rendered, with an impressive breadth of influences that are all subtly woven into the mix. Previously their releases were de-centred, while Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free harbours a focused approach throughout, although there are still incongruous elements that don’t quite sit right in the middle section of the album. A minor gripe, but one that stops the album getting a higher score.

There are obvious similarities to Animal Collective, in both name and deed, and these comparisons are inevitable. Listening to ‘River’ you are drawn almost inexorably to this conclusion, with it’s combination of shimmering atmospherics and military rhythms. But listen again, and beyond the approach to sound collages, subject matter and melody there is a rawness, a keening and bruised sense of hope. The rousing finale of ‘Sun Will Shine’ and ‘Last Year’ is where the album’s bliss almost reaches a tipping point.

Their third release finds Akron/Family conceptually less constricted than before, less wilfully obtuse, and the new found freedom allows them to be even more creative than before in their search for self-definition. The challenge has always been there for Akron/Family to harness their improvisational tendencies and sense of community and togetherness on record, and with their latest they have succeeded to an extent. For a band with such a chaotic (and always evolving) live sound and a keen improvisational bent, getting the songs down on record is always going to pose a challenge, yet Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free is a satisfyingly coherent snapshot of where they currently are. It’s not a release that attempts to be definitive and provide answers, remaining cryptic until the end. Togetherness is the key. Don’t worry, if there is hell below we’re all going to go.
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Akron / Family on MySpace

John Vanderslice has announced plans to release his new album, called Romanian Names, on Dead Oceans.

It’ll be released in the UK on 18th May, and you can hear the track ‘Fetal Horses’, by downloading the mp3 here.

Tracklisting:
Tremble And Tear
Fetal Horses
C&O Canal
Too Much Time
D.I.A.L.O.
Forest Knolls
Oblivion
Sunken Union Boat
Romanian Names
Carina Constellation
Summer Stock
Hard Times

A coast-to-coast-to-coast US jaunt is in the works following JV’s Gone Primitive Tour with The Mountain Goats. British and European dates expected in the Autumn.

May
17 Merced, CA  – The Partisan
19 San Francisco, CA  – The Rickshaw
21 Portland, OR – Mississippi Studios
22 Seattle, WA – Easy Street
24 George, WA – Sasquatch!
27 Provo, UT – Velour
28 Salt Lake City,  UT – Kilby Court
29 Denver, CO – Hi-Dive
30 Omaha, NE – Slowdown Jr

June
06 Chicago, IL – Empty Bottle
09 Pittsburgh, PA – The Warhol Museum
12 Brooklyn, NY – Music Hall of Williambsurg

How does a pop band such as Brooklyn’s Bishop Allen tackle the daunting challenge of topping an album as good as 2007’s The Broken String?  Well, you know the old saying… “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”.  With their new, quite animal-centric, release Grrr…, Bishop Allen are back with catchy tunes, hooks galore, and a more polished sound than their past releases.

Opener ‘Dimmer’, with its staccato guitar, bouncy rhythms and Justin Rice’s bordering-on-tenuous vocals is signature Bishop Allen sound.  Much of the rest of the album is, instrumentally, more stripped back than The Broken String, and percussion takes the forefront – expect lots and lots of xylophones.  Songs like ‘The Ancient Commonsense of Things’ will be running through your head when you awake in the morning; ‘True Or False’, the obligatory Darby Nowatka-fronted track, features a lovely horn section on the chorus.  Unfortunately Grrr…, although clever enough, doesn’t quite live up to the lyrical standards of Bishop Allen’s previous albums.  However, I do enjoy the ironic nature of ‘Rooftop Brawl’ in which a rather graphic suicide (attempt?) is set to upbeat and bouncy guitar riffs.

There are a couple of missteps, and it‘s a shame that they conclude the album. ‘The Magpie’ is a bit of a clunker, but at least it’s a mere minute and 45 seconds.  ‘Tiger, Tiger’ – while a nice song – is an ambiguous ending to the album.  I can’t help but think that Grrr… would have been well served to have ended at the 11-track mark.  The band has had some commercial success since their latest release with songs featured both on a Sony camera commercial and the film Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist.  There is no doubt that Bishop Allen are sticking with what works, and why shouldn‘t they?  Although they have come under fire from some critics for going down the safe path, with Grrr… they’ve proven they’re still quite adept at crafting highly likable three minute pop songs.
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Bishop Allen on MySpace

I stumble in through my front door. I’m drinking warm lager from a pint glass stolen from one of Bristol’s many late-night drinking establishments, and I’m wondering what the hell to play very loud to annoy my housemates and fall asleep to. I chance across These Are Powers’ latest release, my Rich Thane-selected RANDOM CHOICE album for the month. The conditions aren’t exactly perfect for a first listen of an album I’m gonna have to review, but, as it turns out, the album is perfect for the conditions.

I’d actually just got back from seeing the dull, uninspired indie-rock of current Radio1 darlings General Fiasco, so perhaps in that context anything would have felt like an absolute joy, but there is definitely something to be said for These Are Powers’ second full-length – it’s carnal and visceral and physical; despite being all beeps and electrics and computers, it feels human, it feels like raw emotion and testosterone and it definitely sounds like four a.m. drunken stupors, begging you to wobble around like one of those 1980’s dancing coke cans.

In comparable terms, it sounds like what you would probably expect an ex-Liar (Power’s are fronted by Pat Noecker, one of the original Liars line-up) to sound like – cut free from the more commercial constraints that Liars tend to work by this is, at best, what you always beg for Liars to break down into, their music at it’s most minimal and bare, but at its worst, it’s what you always fear Liars could become, tracks like ‘Double Double Yolk’ coming across as deliberately awkward, like a bad pastiche of their Drum’s Not Dead-era.

It’s definitely not a comfortable listen, and I wonder had I first experienced it in any other state, would I have dismissed it as indulgent waffle from a former member of one of rock’s most indulgent bands. So my opening story isn’t just a fun tale – it’s a recommendation. See a shitty band, get so pissed you can’t think, and let the pounding ‘ghost-punk’ (Noecker’s phrase, not mine) of All Aboard Future carry you off.
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mp3:> These Are Powers: ‘Life Of Birds’

These Are Powers on MySpace

Mt. St. Helen’s Vietnam Band might originate from Seattle, but listening to them, it quickly becomes obvious that their sound is firmly rooted in all things Canadian. Their self-titled album, due on March 9th via Dead Oceans, is like a checklist for a huge “whatever you can do I can do better” to the biggest and best Canadian bands of the past few years. From opener ‘Who’s Asking,’ a song Spencer Krug probably wishes he wrote, through the  closer ‘On The Collar’ which channels Arcade Fire through some sort of awesome tube. It’s a thoroughly enjoyable record from a band certainly destined for bigger things. We caught up with band members Traci, Benjamin, Matthew, Marshall and Jared answer our assortment of musically-related questions…

For people out there that have never heard of you. Give us three reasons why they should:
Traci: Marshall is a triumph of the human existence. We may bring them a great deal of joy. We’d like them to.

Can you recall the moment when you first decided you wanted to become a musician?
Traci: February 10, 2008
Benjamin: The age of 13 or so.
Matthew: 12 years old.
Marshall: 7.
Jared: Infancy

Where do your songs come from? What’s your inspiration?
Traci: Our songs come from a lot of work, the conscious/sub-conscious, genetics, and some mystery of the universe. Our inspiration is our existence.

Name your Top 5 records.
Yes Close to the Edge
Talking Heads Fear of Music
Led Zeppelin III
Paul & Linda McCartney RAM
Sunny Day Real Estate How it Feels to Be Something On

What was the first gig you ever played and was it a success?
Traci: July 31, 2008 Seattle, WA – More of a success than we would have imagined! We dubbed it as our “world premiere” and promoted well. We almost sold it out.

What one piece of criticism has stuck in your mind and was it justified?
Traci: We have taken a bit of criticism for our promotion efforts. The criticism is justified if people don’t care for promotion. Though we would say that it has won us much more praise than it has criticism.

What one thing has caused you to waste your free time in the past 6 months?
Traci: The Simpsons pinball machines.

If you weren’t making music, what do you think you’d be doing?
Traci: Well, we still have day jobs at High-Schools, Restaurants, Adult Boarding Homes.

What’s the worst job you’ve ever had?
Traci: Pizza parlor
Benjamin: Baker… Marshall has never had a job.

We’d like you to make us a mix-tape. Pick five tracks with a theme of your choice.
Theme: 2008 releases
Maps & Atlases: ‘Witch’
Pattern is Movement: ‘Trolley Friend’
Man Man: ‘Top Drawer’
Fleet Foxes: ‘Blue Ridge Mts.’
Gnarls Barkley: ‘Surprise’

mp3:> Mt. St. Helen’s Vietnam Band: ‘Anchors Dropped’

Mt. St. Helen’s Vietnam Band on MySpace

Phosphorescent, a.k.a. Matthew Houck, never shy of the “interesting cover version” here takes things one step further in releasing a complete “tribute album” to one artist: country music legend Willie Nelson.  The title seemingly a clever play on the title of Nelson’s own 1975 tribute album (To Lefty From Willie – an album of Lefty Frizell covers), Houck has wisely selected some of the lesser-known songs, neatly sidestepping the issue of listener over familiarity which can sometimes prove problematic on such endeavours.

And what a beautiful selection of songs it is.  For the listener, like me, who has not previously encountered much of Willie Nelson’s oeuvre, then the first thing that this album achieves is to make you very much want to explore his music further.  The tone is often world-weary, sometimes cynical, sometimes battle-hardened, but always moving and honest.  We meet Nelson/Houck in several different moods, though always with unmistakably the same voice.  We see him in unrepentant party mode on standout track ‘I Gotta Get Drunk’, defiantly singing “There’s a lot of doctors who tell me / I’ve gotta start slowing it down / But there’s more old drunks than there are old doctors / So I guess I’ll get me another round”; then as he tries to talk himself into abstention and sobriety on ‘Reasons To Quit’ (“The coke and booze don’t do me like before”), while at the same time admitting that those reasons “don’t outnumber all the reasons why“, with heartbreaking honesty and self-awareness.  He’s lovesick on ‘Heartaches of a Fool’, ‘The Last Thing I Needed (First Thing This Morning)’, and the affecting ‘Permanently Lonely’ – with bitter lyrics from Nelson, yet such a sad, beautiful delivery from Houck that you can practically taste the hurt and pain of the brokenhearted lover.   Hell, there’s even the obligatory religious references, in ‘Too Sick To Pray’, which managed to melt the flinty heart of this confirmed atheist (that’s what a Catholic upbringing will do to a girl…), with lines like “Never needed you more / Shoulda called you before / But I’ve been too sick to pray“.

The lyrical and musical compositions, though, are definitely only part of what make this album so special.  Equal weight must be given to Houck’s tuneful, gentle yet incredibly emotional delivery.  This is a voice that could make you yearn for things you didn’t know you would ever yearn for, and melt the faces of the Easter Island stone statues to gooey mush.  It is rare, indeed, that a covers album manages to meld together the songs being covered and the artist that is covering them so effectively – to the extent where it is now unquestionably going to seem strange and probably a little wrong when I track down and finally listen to the original versions.

In short then, this is an album that I would only hesitate to recommend to you if you were a) in the middle of a painful break-up (I’d advise you to save it until you are over the worst) b) trying to quit booze or drugs or c) an Easter Island stone statue.  To everyone else I would wholeheartedly encourage the embracing of these gorgeous, touching, warm and very very human songs.
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mp3:> Phosphorescent: ‘Reasons To Quit’ [via Stereogum]

Phosphorescent on Myspace

It’s been quite a year for live music, 2008; an emotional roller-coaster of euphoria and heady nostalgia and all sorts of superlatives you might reach for to try to describe a clenched throat that doesn’t know if it’s holding back ecstatic cheers or warm tears.

There was the 12 Bar last month, a fragile Edwyn Collins leaning into the protective, wiry shoulder of Roddy Frame, straining resistant limbs and lips into familiar old shapes for a tiny crowd of shiny-eyed Dundonians. There was the Roundhouse a few weeks before that, Kevin Shields’ mouth yawning wide and silent into the din, my skin rippling as though the waves that buffeted the front row were real and not mere sound. And there was the holy still air of St Giles church, in the balmy early days of June, when Justin Vernon raised a guitar to the heavens and 300 faithful erupted into triumphant thanksgiving. It’s pure luck to be granted one such fleeting, epiphanical moment a year, never mind two from one quiet Wisconsinite. Iconic performances seem to have littered the summer months like chewing-gum wrappers, and now another has just fallen at our feet and blown past, reminding me of Winnaretta Singer’s line about the rare and particular breed of music that reminds us that we have “a reason for living on this rock: to live in the beautiful kingdom of sounds.”

Bowerbirds

The night belongs to Bon Iver, but it begins with Bowerbirds, old friends of Justin who seem to suffer slightly from always being the bridesmaid and never the bride. Their album Hymns for a Dark Horse is inarguably one of the year’s best – sparse but pure of tone, dissonant and often downright sinister, but satisfyingly full of glowing harmonies. Phil and Beth are both graced with idiosyncratic voices you’d not imagine would mesh easily with any other, never mind each other, but through some weird alchemy they are a graceful and captivating pairing. Still, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen them fulfil their considerable potential live. Cranked up to fill a 2,000-capacity hall, their sound is inevitably heavy-handed and a bit crude, and a noisy crowd obscures the sound for all but those in the front. The miniscule variations in pace and tone that, on the album, reward infinite listens – Mark’s calmly confident presence on drums as opposed to Beth’s looser, more instinctive hand; Phil delicately sliding words on and off the beat – are near-inaudible. Phil moves the set along pacily, managing a difficult situation as best he can. “Matchstick Maker” is introduced as “the quiet one”; as he turns to Beth to start the song he seems to shake his head with a frustrated laugh. It’s gorgeous and understated to my ears, just about filtering through the chatter, but then I am barely two metres from the speakers. Mark joins the harmonising on new song “Teeth”, a three-part vocal wonder of Beach Boys magnitude that fills the hall more robustly and bodes very, very well for the future.

When Bon Iver come on stage, the crowd goes eerily silent. It’s a moment, and a date, heavy with import; it feels as though the weight of history is on them. They slide into “Flume”, all clarion electric guitar and full-throated vocals. It’s a big sound, a confident, almost stadium sound, all the quiet soul-searching and introversion of the past few years blossoming into a glorious hope and confidence in the future that they can perhaps only now begin to express. Justin crackles with energy, thrashing around in a long, noisy finale to “Creature Fear”. He bounces between one of the ten or so guitars piled behind him and a keyboard in front, building up a massive wall of reverberating sound that echoes through “Lump Sum” and “Creature Fear”. New song “Blood Bank” crashes in like Neil Young at his most pounding and epic, all four-to-the-floor drums and Hammond-effect keyboard rising into high, throbbing dissonance. The crowd quiets for Mikey Noyce, the baby-faced, angel-voiced guitarist, to sing “Simple Man” (“We’re gonna do some covers for you now,” Justin announces half-jokingly, “cos we don’t have all that many songs, you know?”). By the time they kick into closer “Skinny Love” – as raw and assertive tonight as the album version is quietly brooding – there are three drummers on stage, all burning with fierce energy. The screams and applause, 2,000 pairs of arms raised high, maintain a hysterical pitch as the band retreat and re-emerge for an encore. With the first bars of “For Emma”, there are cheers and suddenly hundreds are clapping along in time – faintly embarrassing but for the genuine adoration behind it. Band and audience rollick through the song with joyful abandon. Then there’s a hush as Bowerbirds emerge. They gather round an old-school chrome mic. Justin is holding an acoustic guitar.

Bon Iver have covered Sarah Siskind’s “Lovin’s For Fools” many times by now – always in closing, always near-a capella, mostly with Bowerbirds but also, once, with Siskind. Youtube clips like this one have been flying around with abandon. The song distills much of what is so special about this band: the way they reach for strength through vulnerability; the way they reveal the agony and ecstacy at the core of humanity. There is nothing more that a mere description of the timbre of a voice or the pluck of a string can convey.

Set list
Flume
Lump Sum
Creature Fear
Blindsided
Blood Bank
Re: Stacks
Simple Man (Graham Nash)
I Believe in You (Talk Talk)
Skinny Love
The Wolves (Act I and II)
For Emma
Lovin’s For Fools (Sarah Siskind)

More photos

mp3:> Bon Iver: ‘Flume’ [Daytrotter Session]
mp3:> Bon Iver: ‘Lump Sum’ [Daytrotter Session]
mp3:> Bon Iver: ‘Re Stacks’ [Daytrotter Session]
mp3:> Bon Iver: ‘Creature Fear’ [Daytrotter Session]
mp3:> Bon Iver & Sarah Siskind: ‘Lovins For Fools’ [Live in Nashville]

Damien Jurado

Jagjaguwar and Dead Oceans, the consistently fine spin off labels from Secretly Canadian have oodles of interested signings and new releases coming up – so, in a condensed form, heres everything in one bite sized-ish post. Here goes…

Bon Iver

Signed in the US to Jagjaguwar (4AD in the UK) Bon Iver appeared on New York radio station WMYC this week. You can stream the appearence below, which features mega performances of ‘Creature Fear’ and spine tingle inducing rendiditon of ‘Flume’. Plus a chat about the album, which to be fair doesn’t really reveal too much. Just the same old “so I hear you recorded this in your fathers log cabin” etc etc.. Still worth it for the songs though – listen below:

If mp3′s are more your bag, then you can still grab the A-M-A-Z-I-N-G live session from Daytrotter.

mp3:> Bon Iver: ‘Flume’ [Daytrotter Session]
mp3:> Bon Iver: ‘Lump Sum’ [Daytrotter Session]
mp3:> Bon Iver: ‘Re Stacks’ [Daytrotter Session]
mp3:> Bon Iver: ‘Creature Fear’ [Daytrotter Session]

Also, watch this recent footage of Bon Iver and labelmates Bowerbirds perform Sarah Siskind’s ‘Lovin’s For Fools’ shot at the Bowery Ballroom in NYC. Hopefully they’ll perform it together at Shepherds Bush Empire next month – Bowerbirds are supporting Bon Iver at the sold out show on 11th September. Speaking of Bowerbirds, Brooklyn Vegan has some real nice shots of a recent show of theirs, here.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Women

Jagjaguwar will release Women’s self-titled debut full length on October 7th, 2008 throughout the world (January, 2009 release in the UK, and Canadian label Flemish Eye is releasing the record in Canada.) The band will tour the U.S., Canada and Europe in support of the album throughout 2008, and tour dates will be announced soon.

The band’s debut was recorded by Sub Pop and Flemish Eye artist Chad VanGaalen over 4 months on ghettoblasters and old tape machines in his basement, an outdoor culvert and a crawlspace. Sometimes light and spacious, at other times eerie and dense with an ominous weight, Women hint at the Velvet Underground, Swell Maps or This Heat; a lo-fi masterpiece cloaked in layers of vibrato and guitar wash.

mp3:> Women: ‘Black Rice‘
mp3:> Women: ‘Group Transport Hall‘

These Are Powers

After witnessing the chaos and energy of a These Are Powers live set, Dead Oceans were immediately enthralled with this band, and after a long courtship and some hot and heavy dating, they have finally announced the start of a long and fruitful union. First, Dead Oceans will re-release Taro Tarot and Terrific Seasons in October 2008, followed by an LP of new material in the first part of 2009. The band will support the re-releases with tours of both North America and Europe this autumn.

mp3:> These Are Powers: ‘Cockles’

Secretly Canadian have a couple of decent releases coming up too.. David Vandervelde’s sophomore album Waiting For The Sunrise is released next week in the States (22nd Sept in the UK) – fairly decent easy listening fare. Look out for a review soon. Also, Damien Jurado is set to release his new LP Caught In The Trees on 9th September in the States (27th Oct in the UK) – judging by the lead track ‘Gillian Was A Horse’ we’re in for some what of a treat. I can never understand though why we have to wait so long for UK release dates..

Oh – and one last thing, Dead Oceans new signings The Donkeys will release their staggering self-titled debut on September 8th. It really is quite fantastic – download an mp3 below and see for yourselves. Country-rock at its very finest. Look out for a review nearer the time of release.

mp3:> David Vandervelde: ‘I Will Be Fine’
mp3:> Damien Jurado: ‘Gillian Was A Horse’
mp3:> The Donkeys: ‘Walk Through A Cloud’