Emmylou Harris and Rodney Crowell, The Traveling Kind

This is the title track for Emmylou Harris and Rodney Crowell‘s most recent joint effort, The Traveling Kind. I had been listening to it somewhat obsessively just before I left New York – as anthem, as inspiration, as comfort, as reminder that I am the traveling kind – and a couple days ago, after a particularly long day, it popped up on shuffle while I was in the car, as if the universe wanted to remind me I really did take the right path.

And if I needed that reminder, maybe some of you fellow travelers do too. So here it is. Enjoy, darlings.

Emmylou Harris & Rodney Crowell - The Traveling Kind

Eskimo Brothers, Two

Two, the second record from Eskimo Brothers, is one of life’s small, uncomplicated pleasures.

A rockabilly pleasure, specifically, songs about hard drinkin’ and hard lovin’ shot through with the steady thrum of the upright bass and hip-shaker guitars.

For example: Sweethearts and Bars, which, well, it’s exactly what it says on the tin:

Another one I like: A Lie Called Love, for all the cynical romantics out there:

And then finally there’s the occasional cross-genre reinterpretation of a classic, by which I mean their version of Fat Bottom Girls filled me with rude glee:

Two Songs From: Violet Days

So the first thing I have to tell you is before my first listen to Screaming Colors I misread “Violet Days” as “Violent Days” and was expecting something a lot meaner and thrashier.

That said, once I had clicked play, I was surprised, but not disappointed. Lina Hansson has a beautiful voice and they collectively have a solid grasp of how to build a pop song.

Here’s Screaming Colors, to help you grab your Monday by the throat:

And So Dope, which is for anyone who has had a relationship that was awesome, until it was terrible, to which you would return any time:

braeyden jae, botched communion

Painting by Andrew Alba

Painting by Andrew Alba

Among the many benefits of being subscribed to Warren Ellisnewsletter is that sometimes he includes a music section.

It was there, this week, that I found botched communion, by braeyden jae, and on listening to it, wanted to share it with y’all.

There are only two songs. Closed Visions features soothing church-organ and church bells as a background to guitars so fuzzed out they almost sound like chainsaws; this song goes on for 10 full minutes and is awesome.

Cannot Reach has slightly brighter, cleaner tones winding through the buzzsaws, and is also delightful.

My Dear Mother, David C. Clements

dccmdm

There are certain metaphors I abuse. Most of them are nautical. One is lepidopterological: I tend to think of musicians in the studio as caterpillars in a chrysalis, or, more accurately, in a cocoon. And fans as the tenders of these cocoons, sitting outside, waiting for a sparkly wing to emerge.

David C. Clements has been in a cocoon for a very long time, and yesterday, a delicate wing popped out: My Dear Mother, his first EP in two years.

Four songs, two new (My Dear Mother, When We Go), one alternate version of an earlier tune (On The Border), one interpretation of a Neil Young tune (Philadelphia), all collectively a teaser for a record coming early next year.

The whole thing is awesome – the new/old version of On the Border is slower, but more expansive; there’s some muscle to it, now – but here are the two new ones:

My Dear Mother, the title track, and an excellent introduction to his style, i.e. catchy shuffle-sway beat, sing-along chorus, lyrics that will tear at you. (Front rows of Norther Ireland: if you aren’t dancing to this, I’m giving you some serious squinch-face.)

When We Go, which shows off his range and flexible voice. Apparently this one is a fan favorite, and well, I can see why, because I also love it when he cuts loose and goes for it:

A Good Read, a Good Listen, and a Good Drink: Fold

Fold

It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.


Well, I did threaten on the Twitters, after featuring the gorgeous Post War Glamour Girls, to just write about Leeds-based bands from here on out, and then came Fold with their self-titled full-length debut to help me work toward that goal.

I immediately felt the hook catch with the shrewd, jazzy hip hop-trip hop of standout track “A Victim’s Mentality”, featuring London poet Mr. Gee. The music is the sounds of the city, downbeat, the soundtrack to the survival hustle. The words are the soul of a resident finding his way, grappling, fingertips bloody from trying to surmount the concrete peaks in a world that uses those concrete slabs to keep certain citizens from rising up.

 

Fold - A Victim's Mentality

 

The vibe continues throughout, without click tracks or pre-sequenced samples, layered with the words of Malcolm X, Jimmy Carter, Lena Horne, Kurt Vonnegut, and more. The words are reflective, questioning, delving, while the music floats you along, alternately cushioning and jabbing. Gorgeously atmospheric, but not allowing the listener to be lulled into complacency. It is an album full of meat to chew on.

I am very pleased to introduce the members of Fold to give us some more meat to chew on in the form of book, music, and drink recommendations.

 

Seth Mowshowitz (benevolent dictator, beats / keys / guitar)

A good read:
A lot of reading has fed into the album we’ve just completed. One book that had a significant impact on me personally was The Autobiography of Malcolm X. Alex Haley’s brilliant foreword was essentially a book within a book. Taken as a whole an account is made that clarifies and demystifies to a large extent the story of both the man’s life and the popularised version of the surrounding history. By the end I felt like I knew Malcolm well enough to mourn his passing 50 years later. The thing I admired most apart from his wit, intellect and capacity to overcome adversity was the fact that despite everything he remained open-minded enough right until the end to be able to reconcile new experiences with clashing preconceptions. Like many luminaries capable of articulating the experiences of oppressed groups sadly he was removed right at the point when he’d become most capable of uniting people.

A good listen:
Settling on an album is tougher. One recent discovery that brings me frequent joy is War’s Platinum Jazz. The range of moods, the long and glorious jams and those lilting extended melodies create something that I will happily absorb at any time of day or night. It is a deeply atmospheric experience embodying a strong social conscience in more subtle ways than we do. A masterpiece in my opinion and the first platinum selling album on Blue Note Records. How is it possible that I hadn’t listened to it until earlier this year?

 

 

A good drink:
I came across a cocktail called The Bee’s Knees that turned out to be a little too easy to make at home (if you have a decent shaker). It features gin, honey and freshly squeezed lemon juice. I can easily convince myself that it is healthy enough to drink several in a row.

 

Josh Gardziel (guitar)

A good read:
Charles Bukowski, Ham On Rye springs immediately to mind. I discovered Bukowski rather ironically with a vodka and Coke in hand.

“Getting drunk was good. I decided I would always like getting drunk. It took away the obvious and maybe if you could get away from the obvious often enough, you wouldn’t become obvious yourself.”

I found an honesty and pain in his writing. Finding his place amongst the world was a battle of social constraints, personal reflections, escapism and alcohol fuelled fantasy. Charles Bukowski and his thinly veiled autobiographical portrayal of Henry Chinaski’s struggle with adolescence is one that struck a chord within myself.

A good listen:
So many to name but there is an album that I come back to again and again. Having recently moved house I set up a record player in the spare bedroom and the soundtrack to unpacking was Bon Iver, Bon Iver. It’s an album that for me conjures up warmth and security and has yet to become old. My girlfriend has framed the inlay artwork and it hangs politely above the dansette. I discovered Bon Iver via a video by La Blogothèque; upon which he was singing an acapella version of a track called, For Emma. He was amongst the narrow streets of Mont Martre in Paris and having recently returned from walking those very streets as a tourist, I fell in love with his falsetto.

 

Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago | A Take Away Show

 

A good drink:
Not much of a stiff drinker anymore and never much of a fan of fizzy drinks or coffee I have to put forward my case for good old fashioned water. Although not adventurous or exciting I have to admit that I drink more of this than anything else.

 

Ben Walsh (bass)

A good read:
Never been a massive book geek to be fair, I would say my love is in a good film. It interests me to hear people’s opinions on how a book is presented and received in film format. Usually not a good opinion most of the time. My last conquest left me a little shook up though. The book was A Child Called It, the first novel of many by author Dave Pelzer. It’s a shocking read about his childhood and relationship with his mother. It left me on the edge of my seat at every turn of the page. I think I remember screaming at the book many times. If you have not read this book, I would suggest you do as it will change your perspective on a few things.

A good listen:
Now a good album, this is a tricky one. I’d have to say Finest Hour by Submotion Orchestra. I have liked this band for a while now and this album sends me off somewhere, sleep sometimes! It has stunning vocals, deep music and is a great album – I would recommend it to anyone.

 

Submotion Orchestra - Thinking

 

A good drink:
Now…..DRINK! Now everyone who knows me would say “he likes good old jack” (stories I won’t/can’t go into). But no, I think I’m going to say Jagger this time. It’s strange that his drink takes me back to my childhood a little and the only way I can explain this is………CALPOL!!! Love it!

 

Kane Rattray (drums)

I’ve decided to be a smart arse about this and combine a good read, listen and drink into one beautifully themed evening.

To set the tone, first pop-on possibly one of my all time favourite albums Tom Waits Rain Dogs. Let the broken vaudeville sounds of Tom’s whisky infused voice wash over you and, you guessed it … grab a whisky, preferably a nice strong old fashioned (Marlboro Reds optional).

 

Jockey Full of Bourbon

 

After your first drink, with a slight buzz going pick up a copy of F.Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby and fully absorb yourself in the moment.

Unfortunately, I’m currently sat in a flat, in chilly West Yorkshire (UK), on a Monday Evening, but lets pretend its New York.

 

The By Gods, On the Radio

The By Gods. Photo by Bradley Spitzer

The By Gods. Photo by Bradley Spitzer


AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT.

After a week of dream-folk (and unending rain, these things may be connected) I need some sunshine, and/or some aggressive guitars. Enter The By Gods, of Nashville, with On The Radio, from their upcoming record Get On Feelings.

I like this song / the record because:

The local radio stations here are, shall we say, limited, and I’ve chosen Classic Rock as the lesser of a selection of evils, but I still spend a lot of time muttering “Sweet fancy Moses, NOT RUSH AGAIN.” Sure, I can plug my phone into my car (see also: today in sentences I never expected to write) but that is kind of not the point. The By Gods are the perfect fuzzy ragged antidote to being deeply irritated by very old prog rock and super gross unfunny “morning zoo” radio programming.

All excellent: My Way (NOT a cover of the Sinatra classic of the same name) and Let Me Go.

Video: Space, Strange World

After roughly a decade on hiatus – with one brief reconnection in 2011 – Space, of Liverpool, have returned, bearing new tunes and gearing up for a tour.

I’m trying to figure out what to say about this video and don’t quite know where to begin. Okay, let’s try a numbered list:

1) The camera close-ups highlight that these dudes are old(er) and have earned some gray hair and wrinkles. They are all the more dear for it, and I really didn’t know who they were before, uh, today.

2) There is all manner of “weird” stuff – literally, things: all kinds of dolls, vintage musical instruments, religious statuettes, rows of rusty scissors – which I’m sure was art directed within an inch of it’s collective life, but – I don’t know, I feel a certain sympathy for the magpie heart that collects that kind of thing for real.

3) The song itself is also about the – the challenge, if you will, of being the owner of that kind of magpie heart. Of being able to find home for all sorts of oddly painted creatures and uses for half-broken tools but yet being flummoxed by the sudden appearance of someone else, who might – might love you. Maybe. Of the ways that can feel like a fever dream, and a lie, but trying to believe it anyway.

Space - Strange World

Twin Limb, Don’t Even Think

Twin Limb, of Louisville, KY, are also a dream-folk band. Their sound is a hair more aggressive than Wickerbird – meatier, if you will — but still pretty mellow.

This is Don’t Even Think, from their upcoming EP Anything is Possible and Nothing Makes Sense, scheduled to be unleashed upon the world next week.

It’s a solid tune, with lovely vocals and a tempo that is just the right side of seductive; it is, in short, excellent company.

Wickerbird, The Leaf Maker

wickerbirdgreenmtn

It’s been a little while since we last checked in with Wickerbird (Blake Cowan), and in that time he’s made some more music, inclding his most recent release, The Leaf Maker.

His sound is still dream-folk, but these songs seem more . . . mature, I guess. Better constructed, perhaps; the instruments blend seamlessly with the samples of birdsong and rushing water to create an atmosphere of reflective melancholy.

That makes the whole thing sound grim, doesn’t it. This is not a grim record! Sad and lovely, yes; depressing, no. It is, I think, comfort food for souls who do not especially mind being left to their own devices for extended periods of time.

For example, here’s The Coppice/A Haunting, which sounds like a late afternoon walk by a creek running high:

And Sail Cloth, which sounds like a small boat gliding through an arch of trees towards rough water:

In conclusion: Sepulchre, or, a murder of crows rises and wheels across the sky, headed out of the valley – but they’ll be back, they always are, because this is home.