So I’m on the right PC this morning, in a semi-hypnagogic state. Let the buses continue.
This is one of those albums that I’m not entirely sure why I listened to since the description didn’t make me overly-confident, but that just goes to show you how much of a guide descriptions can be. I’m wondering if actually I do have instincts, and they can sometimes be good.
The last track in particular is one of those legendary tunes which in any just world would be amongst the most famous songs ever written, the longest song on the album by some distance and it still isn’t long enough. Eternal music, that kind of song is. But the whole thing is good.
I must admit, when I read the press release from Southern Lord what did say that this was Anna simply playing the organ unaccompanied, no singing, nuthin’ (exact words, guv), I wasn’t filled with hope.
Maybe it’s because I had a bit of a beast of a last month, but when I did play it, all doubts vanished. It was, is, and forever will be perfect. It genuinely does not matter that her wonderful voice is kept in the cupboard on this album (no, it really was, she told me, she had a special box made for it and even provided it with a personal servant while she communicated with people via email, semaphore and carrier-pigeon).
Despite the strange ways my life has turned over the years, I don’t have that many regrets, even now, but one of them is not going to see her play in Leicester late in 2015 because it clashed with the night my ex-wife was going for a weekly visit to a friend and I didn’t think it worth the battle at the time. And then about a week later I got into her second album and really regretted it. Not fighting the battle, I mean. But then I always thought I’m a lover, not a fighter, except that’s been a rather bitter laugh over the last few years…
Enough of my woes, listen to the organ! (and there was me saying I don’t type much these days).
I actually went to the Cardinal Fuzz page looking for something whose name I’ve totally forgot, and remembered that I played this last night and it rocked. Can’t find the thing I was looking for, though. Have to wait until I’m back on the work PC.
The Janitors have grown on me. I don’t think I was initially impressed, but this one hits the spot, and hits it good.
The fact that I myself have just finished some self-isolation is entirely unrelated.
Whims, eh? There’s actually a fair bit I’ve discovered lately, but I’m on the wrong PC and have bad memory. Otherwise I suspect I’d bombard you with another buses series.
How often do I need to post the work of Julius Gabriel? Probably as often as he does it. Dude is properly on it. So is his partner in this maelstrom, João Pais Filipe, who you will also hear in the next post, equally maelstromic. Neologisms, eh? I love ’em. This is the musical equivalent.
This be the second Paisiel album, so I hope it means there will be more.
I have something in common with Thee Telepaths. I’ve also recorded music at Far Heath recording Studios. I did it with the old blues band I was in. We recorded a demo. It is a marvellous place to record music, surrounded by fields, devilishly difficult to find, lovely spacious vibe.
Bit like this music, really. Music that is also dense. Difficult trick to pull off, but they do it well. My only nark is that they’ve split what is essentially 3 long tunes into separate pieces which mean that when you listen digitally – as I have to – you get a gap at what seem like quite arbitrary intervals.
As someone who has no intention of ever buying a vinyl player due to not having money to waste on relics of our imperial greatness (face it, people, it’s over), I get rather annoyed by the snobbery shown towards those of us who focus on the digital music.
People who have read this blog before may well have picked up on my long standing tendency to snark at music journalism, like I’m soooo much cooler (which actually I am, though that is irrelevant). (coolness is and always has been a bullshit concept). (concepts are and always have been over-rated). (this is what happens when writing a blog post is roughly the second conscious thing you do one morning after making a cup of coffee because you’ve remembered you actually get to start work a bit later today because reasons).
So anyway, because music journalists, I really didn’t want to like this album, as it contains man from The Quietus. To be fair to The Quietus, they are actually the least objectionable music publication by some distance, and I even read it sometimes. I hardly ever see the word ‘sophomore’ used when describing a ‘second’ album. This is to be encouraged. Also, other things.
Ponder for a moment what sort of mind listens to an album that he really didn’t want to like. Or don’t. Maybe working from home does funny things to you. Or maybe I actually listened because Tesla Tapes, because Gnod, because I just damn well listened to it.
It’s like nothing I can describe, which isn’t actually unusual in that regard. But it’s also brilliant. All four tracks are very different, and they’re all great.
I knew of the Legendary Pink Dots. Who doesn’t? But only a bit of their work, and that from the 70s.
Nonetheless, this came right as a surprise. I’d recently had recommended an album made by someone who was knocking around in the 60s doing a new thing with some ‘cool’ luminaries helping him, and it did nothing for me at all. Felt like it was living in the past. So I initially was a bit worried that this might be similar.
Didn’t take long at all to kick that notion into touch. This is something that encapsulates probably every style the guy has done over the years and then some, gloriously wrapped up in a whole dose of now. Impossible to describe, even more so than the usual things that are impossible to describe. Which isn’t a description.