A Good Read, A Good Listen, and a Good Drink: Bethany Weimers

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.


Bethany Weimers’ debut record Harpischord Row came out last year, and was (is still!) an exquisite folk-pop gem. The first song, Silver Moon, remains one of my favorites:
 

 
Also really lovely: this acoustic rendition of Desire:
 

Punt Sessions | Bethany Weimers – Desire from Nick Seagrave on Vimeo.

 
She’s currently hard at work on her next record, which I can’t wait to hear. Meanwhile, here she is to share a favorite book, record, and summer-in-a-bottle drink:


 
Good Read – Paula by Isabelle Allende

Until a few minutes before sitting down to write this, I had been going to sing the praises of my most recent unputdownable read – The Cazalets Chronicles [by Elizabeth Jane Howard] – an epic family saga; a perceptive exploration of character; and a lively portrait of pre- to post-war England. It’s a great story, one which I devoured. I recommend it.

But I happen to be staying at my parents’ house for the weekend and I happen to be standing in my old bedroom, staring at the rows of books that are stored here until one day I once again have enough space in my own home.

On the top shelf, tucked between a book on orchestration and a battered Penguin classic, and half hidden by a box of old Christmas cards, I spy the letters ‘Isa…’ and ‘Alle…’ peaking out. Oh. A surge of warmth rushes through me. Ever since her book ‘Daughter of Fortune’ was recommended to me by a university friend (thanks Greg!), Isabelle Allende has been one of my favourite authors, never failing to captivate and rarely failing to leave me feeling uplifted.

This book however is not one of her straight fiction books. For many years it sat on my shelf unread, fearful that the subject matter would prove too heavy. Yet when I finally felt it was time to delve in, I found one of the most beautiful, loving, life-affirming and brave books that I’ve had the privilege of reading.

Sad and tragic too, how could it not be, but what’s stuck in my mind in the four or so years since I read Paula’s richly woven tapestry of histories, is something – that I can’t quite articulate – something profound to do with humanity, to do with hope, to do with healing and I suppose simply – love.

From the opening page: “In December 1991 my daughter, Paula, fell gravely ill and soon thereafter sank into a coma. These pages were written during the interminable hours spent in the corridors of a Madrid hospital and in the hotel room where I lived for several months, as well as beside her bed in our home in California during the summer and fall of 1992.” Isabelle Allende.

A very special book.

Good Listen – In Puget Sounds by D. Gwalia

D Gwalia was a name I’d heard around the Oxford music scene for a few years before coming across his album In Puget Sounds for the first time last summer. I knew nothing about him and had no idea what to expect. Listening online through headphones it stopped me dead: an unexpected musical epiphany. Wow. I felt like this was the voice my ears had been born to hear.

D Gwalia could sing One Direction and I’d probably love it; he’d imbue the words and tune with a mysterious, ancient, powerful, yearning melancholy. Suffice to say I went straight to Truck Store (my local record shop), bought the CD, then returned home and listened obsessively and incessantly for weeks. Expect something beautifully crafted, dark and wallowing.
 

 
Good Drink – Sparkling Homemade Elderflower Cordial

Strange that an unexpected weekend stay back home has ended up guiding my book selection, as the drink I had already decided upon is also one with close associations.

Outside my parents’ house is an elder tree. Now, in the early days of autumn the berries are starting to droop and even birds seem to have had their fill. But three months ago the view from the front door was thick with white lacy flowers – elderflowers – and the air was intoxicating.

Spring had burst into summer with ferocious intensity and everywhere, both city and countryside, triumphed in vitality after our exceptionally long hard winter.

I must confess that I’ve yet to play the role of elderflower picker or cordial maker, but for many years I’ve performed superbly in the role of elderflower drinker and enthusiast. For me homemade elderflower cordial is one of life’s little pleasures. So what is it I love so much about this simple drink?

Well for starters the flowers have to be picked on a sunny day. Imagine: rainy cloudy weather for days and days and then suddenly… SUN. Harvest time. Elderflowers at their best; the warmth of summer captured in a bottle. Then there’s the fact that the drink’s main ingredient, found in abundance certainly round these parts, can be foraged for free.

And what about the cordial maker? Pretty sure that along with the flowers, sugar, lemon, water and citric acid, whoever makes the drink throws in their own bit of magic – this summer’s was brewed solely by my mum, other years’ concoctions have been a joint effort with my sister.

And lastly: the taste. I find it hard to describe flavour but I’ll go with delicate yet deep, sweet, slightly lemony, summery, aromatic. Diluting the cordial with sparkling water as I usually do gives an added tingly excitement to every sip. Yum.

Every year my family share the majority of the cordial in the weeks after it’s made and there’s a certain sadness when the last drop goes – farewell summer, welcome autumn. But hidden at the back of the freezer in a small ½ litre bottle is one final gift from those summer months to be opened at the halfway point.

On Christmas Day in the depths of winter, we’ll share this treasure, this liquid gold, and remembering that the solstice has now passed, look to spring just around the corner.

A quick internet search will bring up a wealth of information about making Elderflower Cordial and plenty of recipes. Sophie Grigson’s is apparently the one my mum uses, so perhaps that’s a good one to start with. Also please make sure you know what you’re picking and only use if you know it’s safe! The European elder tree native to Britain is the Sambucus Nigra but there are other varieties elsewhere in the world and they might be toxic . . . I don’t know.

[ed. note: Places to get elderflower cordial: Belvoir Fruit Farms or pick one from this collection.]

cata9tales, Hello Maybe Everything

cata9tales is: Berkley Priest (vocals) and Kreator (Kenny Perkins) (beats), and they’re from Baltimore and Virginia and are currently based in Baltimore.

Hello Maybe Everything is their most recent record. It is an extraordinary, visceral, aggressive torrent of words and pop-cultural references. My first thought on listening to it was, no lie, “these dudes are going to keep the people at Rap Genius in business all by themselves.”

For example, in their first song, things they mash together include but are not limited to: Guns n’ Roses, Jay-Z, Wizard of Oz, Jungle Book, the Bible and Valley of the Dolls:
 

 
There is also Children of the Cloud, which is a complex riff on modern living and the weird things internet culture / living on internet time does to our brains that starts with a Dorothy Parker quote and then – in just the first verse – slaloms through two centuries worth of the concept of “frontier” before hitting a crescendo with All around the Starfleet they coming out their carseats which I’m pretty sure sums up both the connections and the yawning cultural chasm between those present for the birth of the web and those who have been on the web since birth in, like, nine words.

Though my favorite line is probably So you got a broken heart? Well there’s an app for that.
 

 
And then there is A Conspiracy of Ravens, featuring Brad Bass, Crafsmen, Cream De La “The Tenman” which is just Baltimore: raw, beautiful, brutal, and capable of being home to Edgar Allen Poe and Omar Little.
 

Ghost Twins, Dream On/Dream Off

Ghost Twins (formerly Crushing Blow) are from Derby, England, and arrived in my inbox as “dream noise pop.” This might seem like a contradiction in (genre) terms, but, you know, not all dreams are quiet and slow. Some are very exciting. This song would have been the perfect soundtrack for the one I had recently where I had to jump a tall ship in full sail over a waterfall.

Dream On/Dream Off is half of a Double A single to be released October 7 through Snug Recording Co.; their debut album is expected after Christmas.

 

Late Night Listening: Robbie Fulks, Gone Away Backwards

Robbie Fulks - Photo credit: Dino Stamatopoulos

Robbie Fulks – Photo credit: Dino Stamatopoulos

I don’t know what it is about this record that encourages listening to it in the middle of the night, but that’s when I keep coming back to it: at the end of the day, and in the late/small hours.

I have a suspicion it might be the fiddle, though. I do like a fiddle late at night. (Actually I like a fiddle all the time.) And the lyrics, which have some bite, a little more so than country lyrics usually do.

And this is definitely a country record. Its roots are sunk deep, way past the current topsoil of pop-country, into the bedrock of the open fields and rocky hills of the genre.

It’s also a little bit of commentary on how the genre of country has changed, along with the culture, and, in the case of That’s Where I’m From and Sometimes The Grass Is Really Greener, how where you are from makes you who you really are.

Which, as I prepare to go back to the place where I grew up to visit with people I haven’t seen in 20 years, is probably the real reason I keep circling back to listen to these songs again and again.

It is, in summary, the kind of record that encourages both serious thinking and singing along.

Here are two tracks from the record, so you can hear what I mean:

Long I Ride is a meditative examination of bad decisions with fast-picking and harmonica:
 

 
When I Get to The Bottom is a post-break-up “screw you” song, and I love it:
 

Special memo to Cleveland: Mr. Fulks is doing a record release show at the Beachland Ballroom on September 29, 2013. Get on down there and see him.

Dúo del Sol, hello Kaleidoscope

Album art by Michele Mikesell

Album art by Michele Mikesell

Dúo del Sol is Tom Farrell (guitar/vocals) and Javier Orman (violin/vocals), and they are from Los Angeles, via Chicago and Uruguay.

hello Kaleidoscope is their first full length record, and features assistance from Oscar ‘Luminoso’ Rospide (accordion), Cameron Stone (cello), Derek Stein (cello) and Andrew Bush (percussion) on some tracks.

Their sound is an awesome intoxicating swirl of classical forms and world music (mostly Latin) rhythms, and is kind of like a fine red wine: you have to do the aural equivalent of letting it breathe, i.e. just sit back and listen to it. Allow yourself to be swept up and away.

These are a few of my favorite tracks:

Never The Same River Twice, in which the violin sings a song of longing and adventure, accompanied by a cello and guitar that sound like the steady movement of water.
 

 
Louie, which unfurls and expands slowly, like a delicate, complicated rose:
 

 
And finally Satoomba, in which the guitar and the violin are dancing a flashy, sexy tango:
 

Oum Shatt, Power to The Women of the Morning Shift

Oum Shatt is: Jonas Poppe (Kissogram; guitar/vocals/keys), Philipp Bellinger (guitar), John Donald (bass) and Chris Imler (Driver and Driver, Die Türen; drummer), and they are from Berlin.

As for the name: “Oum” means “mother” in Arabic and in this case is also a homage to Egyptian singer Oum Kalthoum, aka the Queen of Classical Arab music.

The music Oum Shatt makes combines delicate dark electronica with both surf guitar and traditional Arabic sounds, and the result is both unusual and lovely.

As an example, here is the titular song of the EP:
 

 
And also Hot Hot Cold Cold, which showcases some of the fancy guitar work:
 

Video: Dead Professional, Downtown at Sundown

It’s a three-day weekend in America, which for me means trying really hard not to become accidentally nocturnal.

If you, too, often find yourself on the wrong side of 3AM, here is Dead Professional, aka John Harouff (The Cinnamon Band, The Union of Man and a Woman, Man Forever) with a song you can groove to while you’re up: Downtown at Sundown.

Enjoy your weekend, everyone.

 

Dead Professional - Downtown at Sundown

Video: Lindi Ortega, Murder of Crows

Here is Lindi Ortega with a scorcher of a . . . well it isn’t a murder ballad, I guess, but that’s the vein in springs from. Plot twist, though: this time it isn’t a girl who’s dead.

Murder of Crows is from her last record, Cigarettes & Truckstops, but she has a new one coming soon: Tin Star, on October 8th.
 

Lindi Ortega - Murder Of Crows (Official Video)

 

Field Assembly: Narco

FieldAssembly_640x640

Narco is the second record from Field Assembly, aka L. Adam Fox (Ten Year Drought), with assistance from Dean Drouillard (Sarah Harmer, Royal Wood, Matt Barber) Colin Huebert (Siskiyou), Joshua Van Tassel (David Myles, Selena Martin), and Bryden Baird (Feist).

It is a fever dream of a record, written by and for the sleep deprived. It is delicate, lush and sweeping and also embodies the quasi-hallucinatory quasi-permanent state of what day is today and what am I doing? common to the overstimulated and overtired.

And it is glorious.

This is Receiver, the first song. Here are the lyrics – which arrive first over minimalist strumming and then repeat as the song swells and expands – that caused me to say, “okay, I’m in”: Throw your arms around the obscenity / slip your tongue into the lions mouth / pray he don’t taste your blood / pray he taste wine.

I thought it was pray he taste mine for quite some time, which might have made it twice as weird, I guess, but anyway, maybe I also need a nap, because all I had was yes, exactly, exactly.
 

 
Storm and Stress is one of the more uptempo numbers, and is mainly about the very strange things that sometimes live in the silence of the night:
 

 
And finally, Lions Versus Christians, which I have picked to share because, among many other things, of the deft deployment of a harmonica at the beginning and end of the song: