Saturday, August 17, 2024

The John Renbourn Group - Fair Flower


It had been eight years since the breakup of the original Pentangle (which featured the equally gifted British folk artist Bert Jansch)) when John Renbourn released this album featuring original Pentangle vocalist Jacqui McShee. This was the John Renbourn Group's second album with this lineup (the other being the lovely A Maid In Bedlam) and it contains many of the elements of the Pentangle sound. The music is firmly rooted in the English folk tradition, yet it also incorporates elements of jazz, blues and classical music. Each member of the group is an accomplished musician. "The Month of May Is Past/Night Orgies" features a dulcimer solo (provided by John Molineaux) enlisting the use of a phase shifter. McShee adds her clear-as-a-bell vocals to "The Cruel Mother" and the drinking song "Ye Mariners All." The 11-minute instrumental "Sidi Brahim" showcases the group's jazzier side with solos from Renbourn (guitar), Molineaux (dulcimer) Tony Roberts (flute) and Keshlav Sathe (tabla, an intrument which adds an Indian influence on many of the tracks). My favorite track, however, is "John Barleycorn Is Dead." And, of course, Renbourn's playing throughout illustrates why he is regarded as one of the best fingerstyle guitarists today. This album was recorded live in April of 1981 at San Francisco's The Great American Music Hall. This live, intimate setting is a perfect forum for the John Renbourn Group. If you are unfamiliar with Renbourn, this would be an excellent introduction. If you're already a fan, this is a necessary addition to your collection.  From: https://www.amazon.com/Live-America-John-Renbourn-Group/dp/B000000MF0

With Renbourn and Jacqui McShee as members, the John Renbourn Group inevitably sounds a lot like Pentangle – the primary points of difference being the inclusion of flute and tabla. Also, where Pentangle mixed traditional folk with blues, jazz, and original compositions, the material here is almost exclusively traditional British ballads. The highlights of Side A are “Ye Mariners All”, an a cappella drinking song; “English Dance”, a high-speed Renbourn instrumental; and “The Cruel Mother”, a chilling murder ballad (also known as “The Greenwood Side”). The side also includes “Lindsay”, an uptempo but rather repetitive ballad, and “Breton Dances”, a pleasant midtempo instrumental medley. Side B starts with a lovely version of “The Trees They Grow High” (also found on Pentangle’s Sweet Child LP), followed by three ballads involving sea voyages – two parting songs (“Farewell Nancy” and “High Germany”, both featuring lead vocals by John Molineux, who sounds a bit like Tim Hart) and one convict ballad (“Van Dieman’s Land”). Side C is entirely instrumental and consists mostly of “Sidi Brahim”, which falls more or less into the Celtic-raga category; the other track on that side, “The Month of May Is Past/Night Orgies”, is a guitar solo with phase shifting. Side D opens with two more seafaring ballads – “John Dory” (a round) and “So Early in the Spring”, which later reappeared as the title track to Pentangle’s ninth LP. Jacqui McShee returns at last for the lengthy “Fair Flower” (also known as “The Fair Flower of Northumberland”), after which the album ends with “John Barleycorn Is Dead”, which is, of course, given a much more traditional treatment than the well-known version by Traffic (which I actually prefer).  From: https://rateyourmusic.com/release/album/the-john-renbourn-group/live-in-america/


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Saturday, August 3, 2024

Baskery - Audiotree Live 2014 / Rockpalast 2009


 Baskery - Audiotree Live 2014
 

 Baskery - Rockpalast 2009 - Part 1
 

 Baskery - Rockpalast 2009 - Part 2
 
There could be something in the water of Sweden that leads to strong familial harmonies of sibling bands like First Aid Kit, The Hives and reaching farther back to Ace of Base. But Sunniva and Greta Bondesson of sister trio Baskery have more practical reasoning. “I’m surprised there are not more family singers … because it’s the easiest way to sing,” says guitarist Sunniva, the younger sister. “You grow tight. You have the same influences, and it’s almost telepathic when you’re family and you perform together. I’m actually surprised there are only this many famous singers that are related. I think there should be more.”
Swedish families grow close, agrees banjo player-guitarist Greta, the older sister, and the Bondessons, including bassist Stella, the middle sister, are no different. But the other factor, Greta says, is Sweden’s love of American culture that dates back to the 1950s. The national mentality is that their own country is itself a little sibling to America, with the larger country providing protection to the smaller one. That’s why nearly everyone speaks English. Swedes particularly like American folk music.“I think we’re pretty good at making our own genre out of it; ‘Nordicana,’ as we call it,” Greta says. Adds Sunniva: “We are all already familiar with it. It’s part of our legacy with old Americana records. Sometimes, when Americans go to Sweden, you think you’ll hear Swedish folk music, but that’s not what people listen to. “What we do in Sweden is we sing a lot of harmonies. We sing in choirs, and it’s part of every occasion we celebrate. Somebody’s birthday: You sing and people add harmonies. That’s what we do.”
The Bondesson sisters grew up with music in their home like many in Sweden, but their father was also a working musician. Janåke Bondesson played the bar circuit, covering American country and blues songs as a one-man band, kick drum, pedal bass and all. Their early influences included Bob Dylan and Neil Young, Muddy Waters and other blues greats. In the ‘90s, when they were in school, they got a taste for rock like Green Day and Nirvana, and Britpop like Oasis. “We always sang together,” Greta says. “We weren’t really composing anything, but the first song we wrote together, we were probably about 10, 12 and 14. We started pretty early to write songs together, plus we were writing individually as well.”
There were musical instruments lying around the house, and it was a matter of time until the sisters formed a band with their father. “We were born, and he realized we had an interest for music,” Sunniva says. “He just invited Greta to start playing, and then a few years later he was like, ‘Stella can join in on bass.’ So he gradually skipped his one-man band to go into a band with us, but it was just happening without us really noticing that we were forming a band, and we started playing official shows.” Only when fans at shows started asking what the band was called did they realize they had a band, Greta says.
As the Slaptones, they gained some national attention and even opened for the Brian Setzer Orchestra. With their father as drummer, they released two albums in 2003 and 2004. But the Slaptones’ story took a negative turn when the national media turned on the band, Greta and Sunniva say, for the same reason that American media initially took a liking to Haim. The Angeleno sister trio got their start in a similar fashion, playing with their parents. But in Sweden, that wasn’t seen as cool, and the band was pressured to drop their dad.
“Some of the reviews we got in Sweden were just terrible,” Greta says. “They were just trying to tear us apart. How can there be so much hatred?” In 2006, he left the band, saying he wanted to spend more time at home with the sisters’ mother and not spend so much time on the road. In hindsight, Greta says, he wanted his daughters to write their own songs and to move away from rockabilly covers, and because the strain of negative “shit in reviews” was too much.“I think that’s one of the reasons why he withdrew from the band, to be honest, but he never said that,” Sunniva says. Adds Greta: “In America, when people found out that we played with our dad and we actually toured with him, they loved it. In Sweden it’s dorky. ‘Why do you play with your dad? Why aren’t you rebelling against your parents?’ I think he just couldn’t take it.”
After the sisters started Baskery in 2007, the public perception of their band changed. Suddenly, they were a hot commodity, playing a genre the same press termed as acoustic dance music (ADM), mud country and banjo punk. Baskery has since released three LPs: Fall Among Thieves in 2008, New Friends in 2011 and Little Wild Life in 2014. They have built a following in the Venn convergence of Haim, Mumford and Sons, Shovels and Rope and The Staves. “When we started Baskery, suddenly people were nice to us, but we’re the same people, the same songwriters,” Greta says. “Why is it OK when our dad is not in the band?”
In the meantime, their success has continued to grow. After releasing their first three albums on indie labels, Baskery signed with Warner Bros. Records for album no. 4, slated for release later this year. The sisters spent parts of the last few years living and recording in Nashville and Los Angeles with producer Andrew Dawson. The album is wrapped, and they are back in Europe, with Greta in England, Sunniva in Germany and Stella still in Stockholm. The first single, “Love in L.A.,” was released earlier this year and marks yet another new direction, away from Nordicana and toward dance pop. Spacey guitar picking and a four-to-the-floor drumbeat make one wonder what a collaboration with another Swede—Robyn—would sound like. But the Bondesson sisters are more interested in bringing back another collaborator: their father. “We try to bring him back, and we will,” Greta says.  From: https://riffmagazine.com/features/baskery-looks-back-moves-forward/
 

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Veruca Salt - Shutterbug


he Nineties never sounded better than when Veruca Salt’s American Thighs was blasting at maximum volume. A thrilling, transgressive assault, the album – which made its debut 25 years ago this week – was an uncorked genie’s bottle of Generation X angst and delirium. Alongside Nirvana’s Nevermind, The Breeders’ Last Splash and Smashing Pumpkins’ Siamese Dream, the record stands tall as one of the decade’s most essential slabs of headbanging ferocity. You could laugh, cry and scream along to it. Veruca Salt certainly did as American Thighs catapulted them from the Chicago indie underground into the belly of the corporate rock behemoth. It didn’t end especially well. But, goodness, what a rollercoaster.
The single “Seether” set the tone, with metal riffs and dew-drop vocals from front women Nina Gordon and Louise Post. It was a song about feminine rage in an era when women in rock were asserting themselves loudly and proudly. And as with all the best bands from that period Veruca Salt looked as fantastic as they sounded. Just like Nirvana, they elevated just-out-bed scruffiness into high fashion. The extent of Veruca Salt’s star power was clear when, after just a few months on the road, they played the Glastonbury main stage in 1995. You can watch on YouTube, though be warned: it may make you lament the bloodless condition of rock in 2019. Gordon wears a halter-top and a snarl. Post, as was the fashion at the time, rocks in a full length white dress. They plunge into “Seether” and, for those three minutes and 46 seconds, are the best, coolest, smartest band on the planet.
They should have been huge. For a while, backed by Nirvana’s label, Geffen, they almost were. And then it all unravelled, along with Gordon and Post’s almost too intense friendship. But they left us with American Thighs (named for a line in AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long”). A quarter century on, its growling, snarky melodies and slamming riffs remain singular – as evocative of the Nineties as Winona Ryder’s fringe or Kurt Cobain’s Dennis the Menace sweater. It deserves to be acclaimed far more than it is. “You look back and it was ridiculous that we played Glastonbury so quickly,” says Gordon today. “We’d barely been on tour. It was crazy. I look back at that footage of Glastonbury. I can’t believe I was comfortable doing that after such a short time.”
Veruca Salt had been riding a wave of hype for months by the time Glastonbury came around. In March the previous year, with “Seether” already picking up buzz in A&R departments in London and Los Angeles, they’d played a packed tent at the South by Southwest showcase in Austin (the original venue having burned down the previous night). It’s the Texas heat Gordon remembers – that and a crowd heaving with record label executives. The Chicago scene was at that point regarded as the epicentre of American rock. The shine had gone off Seattle (Kurt Cobain would take his life shortly afterwards). Chicago had already produced Smashing Pumpkins – a grunge band comfortable with their prog and FM rock influences – and the third wave feminist crotch-kick that was Liz Phair’s incredible Exile in Guyville. Veruca Salt appeared to split the difference between those artists. They rocked as hard as the Pumpkins yet with two female vocalists tapping the take no prisoners feminism that Phair had channelled so forcefully. Post and Gordon saw themselves as something different and unique, however: a heavy rock band with a female perspective and pop streak the width of the Chicago River. But they were working with Phair’s producer, Brad Wood, and recording in the same West Side Chicago studio where she had laid down Guyville. “There were a lot of female fronted bands at the time obviously,” says Gordon. “And there was a big focus on anything coming out of Chicago because of Liz Phair and the Smashing Pumpkins. People were excited – these were songs you could sing to with heavy guitars.”
Gordon was raised in Chicago’s Gold Coast neighbourhood. Post grew up in St Louis, Missouri, on a diet of FM rock and heavy metal. They were introduced by their mutual friend, actress Lili Taylor, who felt their voices and songwriting sensibilities would work well together. They hit it off instantly and were soon inseparable. This would make the pain of their subsequent falling-out even more unbearable. And it would taint their memories of American Thighs until their reconciliation several years ago (Veruca Salt are very much a functioning band today). “The sky was the limit. I could feel that as soon as I heard our voices. It was like being skyrocketed into space really,” recalls Post. After “Seether” and American Thighs, she would go on to claim a separate slice of rock immortality as the inspiration for “Everlong” by her then-boyfriend Dave Grohl and his band Foo Fighters.
But that was all in the future when Gordon and Post started hanging out at each other’s apartments (Post was living in trendy Wicker Park, later immortalised in the John Cusack adaptation of Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity). With Gordon’s brother, Jim Shapiro, joining on drums and Steve Lack on bass and the spoiled brat from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory lending her name, Veruca Salt went from pipe dream to living, hard-rocking entity. It was just the beginning. “We were entrenched in the Chicago music scene. But it didn’t start that way,” says Post. “I was in a theatre company and waiting tables at a jazz bar. Nina worked at the Art Institute. My friends didn’t go to shows. I remember scalping a ticket to Jane’s Addiction and going on my own. I was in the pit thinking I might die tonight and it would be okay because I was in heaven.”
With “Seether” taking off, soon it was Post staring down at the heaving mosh pit. Their original indie label, Chicago’s Minty Fresh, advised they court the UK market first. That way they could return to the US with the endorsement of the British rock press. In the Nineties, acclaim in Britain was the fastest means of launching a band back in America. “Seether” duly came out on Britain on the tiny imprint Scared Hitless (which would release grand total of six singles and one LP before shuttering). “We went to London and stayed in the hotel where all the bands hung out, the Columbia,” says Gordon. “We’d be in the bar and Justine Frischmann and Damon Albarn would be there. The guys from Suede were just hanging out talking.” “The UK always gives a band a run for its money,” adds Post. “You’re either the British darling or you’re not. Even if you are the darling you’re still spat upon and mocked. We were given a lot of press. We were also jeered at. We weren’t taken seriously at first. We had to prove our worth. There was one early headline: Dig the New Breeders…In the British press the Breeders thing was inescapable. We would bristle at that.”
This was the Nineties and so sexism was obviously an issue too. (In 2017, Post was one of 38 women to accuse film director James Toback of sexual harassment.) A radio station that had already playlisted Garbage or – sorry Louise – The B***ers might decline to spin Veruca Salt because then there would be women all over the airwaves and who knew what might happen? “The patriarchy was firmly in place,” says Gordon. “The structure was solid. We were always bumping up against things. You’d go to radio stations and meet the programme director. They wanted a picture and would put their arms around you and maybe grope you a little. They would put their hand on your ass. There was that all the time.” Back in Chicago, meanwhile, the mother of all backlashes was building. The city that gave the world indie fundamentalist Steve Albini and jazz fusionists Tortoise is, or at least was, notoriously judgemental about artists daring to go out into the world and have success. As two strong women not in the least embarrassed about being on MTV, Gordon and Post were seen as fair game. Where the British music press was gently mocking, in the Chicago media the daggers were out.
“After we switched over to Geffen and started playing bigger venues and were on MTV all the time… there was a pushback. There was a feeling of, ‘Who are they…why did they sell out so fast?’ In our mind we had done nothing of the kind,” says Gordon. “Selling out is when you do something you don’t believe in. There were definitely a few nasty articles written. It was hurtful, I’m not going to lie. We were in our twenties. You care what other people think. Nobody likes to read anything mean about themselves. It didn’t feel good.” But the real missteps were by Veruca Salt themselves. With “Seether” a sensation either sides of the Atlantic – it was voted number three in the influential John Peel Festive 50 that Christmas – there was pressure to deliver with their next single. This caused more conflict than it should have. Would they go with a song written by Gordon (as “Seether” was) or one by Post? Individual band members had their own opinions.The label had its suggestions. Their management brought another, contradictory perspective. It was a just one big hot mess. To make the situation even more fraught, after they had settled on “Number One Blind”, there was a panic over the video. Steve Hanft, who had directed Beck’s “Loser”, was hired to shoot the promo. But Gordon felt the slightly whimsical results weren’t quite right (she has since changed her mind). She talked Post into vetoing in. From Geffen’s perspective it was the beginning of the end. For a red hot band to flub their big moment in such a fashion was unacceptable. “It was very expensive,” recalls Post. “We just freaked out and didn’t deliver it to MTV, which was unheard of at the time. At that point the label pulled back their enthusiasm and their push for the album.”
Gordon and Post had a nasty and seemingly irreconcilable parting of the ways in 1998. It was described by AllMusic as a “a bitter falling out over stolen boyfriends, stabbed backs, and general unpleasantness”. Gordon started a solo career; Post took over as solitary front woman of Veruca Salt. She poured all her anxiety and resentment – she had recently broken up with Grohl too – into the 2000 LP Resolver, which yielded lyrics such as: “She didn’t get it, so f*** her.” The sundering of the friendship made memories of what they had been through hugely bittersweet, for Gordon especially. There is a happy ending, however. In 2013, Gordon and Post met for dinner in Los Angeles, where they both now live with their husbands and children. Older and possibly wiser, they let bygones by bygones. “For now let’s just say this: hatchets buried, axes exhumed,” went an announcement on Veruca Salt’s Facebook page, confirming the band was getting back together again. An album, Ghost Notes, followed and the group remains an ongoing project.
“We were so naive,” recalls Gordon. “We thought it would never end. We thought we’d never break up. You look back on it the same way you would a romantic relationship. It’s much sweeter now that we’re friends again. So much of those early records were about my relationship with Louise, our friendship. Two women conquering the world.” Gordon still feels guilty about one incident in particular. In summer 1995, they were offered an American arena tour with heavy rock band Live (of whom they were not fans) and PJ Harvey (with whom they were borderline obsessed). Post was at the time recovering from a slipped disc and in no state to go on the road. Gordon, worried about missing the chance of a lifetime, pressured her friend to pick up her Stratocaster and walk. “It was a huge opportunity,” says Gordon. “We really pushed her to go on tour even with her injured back. We made all sorts of plans for what would happen if she was in pain. We had a couch on stage where she could lie down and play her solos. We had a back up soloist that came on tour with us. He never played a note. Louise wore a neck brace on stage that we tried to make it look cool. Looking back you think, ‘Why did we do that to her?’ I remember arguing with her, fighting with her about it, and siding with our managers.” Post, her bandmate will be relieved to discover, does not bear a grudge. “I was just lying in my apartment watching Ace Ventura: Pet Detective. I was so miserable. All I could do was lie on my side and watch movies. They made me go out on this tour which was tremendous. I’ve got to tell Nina to let that one go.”  From: https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/veruca-salt-american-thighs-anniversary-band-nina-gordon-louise-post-interview-a9121396.html

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The Black Crowes - Cursed Diamond

Amorica boosts and expands on that power. A wham-bam number, "Gone," with drummer Steve Gorman dealing vicious syncopation of the sort John Bonham patented, starts things off, and the Crowes pounce lean and brutal. "Gone" is prime Chris Robinson, all wry phrasing and desperado attitude. Pissed, nervy, stubborn, Chris writes best about the inchoate urge for deliverance ("Want you to burn me, baby.... Cover your eyes with my ashes/C'mon, why don't you pray for me/Sit back, and watch my divine spark flash"). It's less his gypsy scarves and Between the Buttons drag that make him a true rocker than his unquenched restlessness. "A Conspiracy" hits equally hard, but "High Head Blues" shows new range: Eric Bobo's percussion lends a low-riding strut, a relaxed assurance the song shares with the countryish "Wiser Time," its pedal steel provided by American Music Club's Bruce Kaphan.
"Cursed Diamond" updates the rhythm & blues testifying the Crowes first assayed on Money Maker's "Jealous Again." It's another Chris Robinson confessional ("I hate myself/Doesn't everybody hate themselves"), as is "NonFiction" - the latter, however, brightens its cartoon gloom ("Some like their water shallow/And I like mine deep/Tied to the bottom/With a noose around my feet") with humor ("While you pull your hair out/I buy the drinks at the bar") and Eddie Harsch's delicate keyboard work.
Electric piano and the chugging guitar interplay of Rich Robinson and Marc Ford move "She Gave Good Sunflower" closest to the Rod Stewart/Ron Wood stomp the Crowes' have flashed before. It leads into the only real clunker, "P. 25 London," a rocker ruined by an inane Alice Cooper-like chorus ("Empty bottles saviors they crawl.... There's a hornet's nest in my head"). The epic "Ballad of Urgency," however, redeems Amorica, and the album ends with gems: the acoustic bottleneck-powered "Downtown Money Waster" and Chris Robinson's most soulful performance yet, "Descending."
Their swagger intact and their musical inventiveness progressing, the Black Crowes are evolving like the great bands they respect. And that respect has nothing of the archivist's reverence, no follow-the-leader submissiveness. Ultimately, the Crowes are classic rockers simply in their unholy worship of the groove.  From: https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-album-reviews/amorica-190733/


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MediaBanda - Bombas en el Aire


MediaBanda is a multigenerational group founded by Cristián Crisosto (Fulano, Santiago del Nuevo Extremo), which is positioned as one of the most important exponents of fusion and avant-garde in the Chilean music scene. It is characterized by its eclectic and energetic proposal, enriched by various styles such as rock, jazz, funk, pop, Latin American fusion and contemporary music, among others. Throughout their 18 years of experience, they have performed numerous concerts and participated in various festivals within Chile, as well as toured Europe and Mexico, supported by four studio albums.
“Bombas en el Aire” is the band's fourth studio album, which had to wait seven years after its predecessor album “Siendo Perro”, where there were also changes in the members, one of the most notable being the vocalist Arlette. Jequier. This is how the album is presented, which maintains the experimental sense and versatility in its musicality.
The album begins with “I learned about Facebook”, whose sound details at the beginning comprise an orchestral and experimental perception typical of seventies styles. The textures that are formed from synthesizers, percussion and string instruments give us the prelude to the variety and musical exquisiteness brought to listeners who enjoy the experimental. The rhythmic structure is generated by all the instruments, giving an organized and sequenced atmosphere by different tempos and moments where jazz madness is unleashed; ending the song with the same instrumental sequencing created.
“Bombas en el Aire”, the album's eponymous song, begins with the prominence of the saxophones and the rhythm of the bass and guitar. Here, the vocalist takes more prominence: “Bombs in the air. There is no one to breathe anymore, there is no one to breathe our air.” The rhythm from here on takes on more rock nuances, with marked presences of the string instruments while the synthesizer adds melodic details in the background. Likewise, wind instruments have their space; each moment being a sum where they mark the general structure of the song. In the middle of the song, the guitar solo is spectacular, where it shows off various techniques such as hammering and tapping. All from a shred style.
Then we have “El Sofá”, which begins with a synthesizer that sets the rhythm together with the drums and bass. From the beginning it transmits lucidity and stillness, despite the marked rhythmic structure and with the jazz imprint that challenges the listener to predict what is to come. Later, the saxophones are added that are assembled with the synthesizer; resulting in a relaxing melody. When the voice is included, the rhythm continues its course but with some breaks, evolving to greater complexity from the drums and in the bass line when autotune is added to the voice. Reaching the end, there is a break where it becomes more atmospheric, where the guitar marks the chords with delay. At the end, the synthesizer takes on a more spatial timbre, giving a more enveloping nuance at the end of the song.
“Mi Ego me Odia” is a song whose development ranges from quieter moments to more rock and funk-style musical landscapes, resulting in an entertaining song. We advance towards “Perfectible”, which begins with the wind instruments already the protagonists at this point, giving the prelude to the rhythmic structure generated by the drums and bass. Without a doubt, throughout the album, one of the elements to highlight is the complexity in the rhythm, where the bass-drums relationship is essential for the general instrumental assembly. In this song, the different harmonies generated by synthesizer and guitars also stand out, which adorn the song with an experimental sound, where there are even moments more linked to hip-hop. “Plausible Deterioration of Erroneous Icons” is the sixth song that presents us with a softer and calmer beginning, and then jumps to the intensity of the participation of all the instruments. From rock to more hip-hop moments, we have a song that stands out musically for its ability to naturally intertwine the different genres involved, not forcing bridges between one moment and another.
Then we have “ Wikistan”, the longest song on the album, which begins with an interesting bass line adorned by more crystalline textures provided by the synthesizer, and then the drums and electric guitar are added. From it’s beginnings it transmits a certain relaxation made more complex by the different textures given by keys, strings and winds; where the voice is finally added. Likewise, the complement given by the guest DJ 's arrangements is appreciated, making the scratches that adorn the song very well. In the middle of the song, we have a notable saxophone solo that is complemented by the multiplicity of instruments that the band contains, ending with the melody with a lot of guitar gain.
Coming to the end of the album, we have “Mediabanda”, which begins with some jazz synth chords, where then the drums and bass come into play with an unorthodox structure and where the synth delay generates a sense of depth to the song that, together with the singer's lyrics, generates a very pleasant sensation for the listener. The required saxophones are added later, showing once again the quality and execution technique present in all the songs. Later we have a notable bass solo, which finally translates into a more intense and stimulating rhythm, where each second generates a restlessness that finally sees its end with some last melodies generated by the saxophones.
Without a doubt, the album is notable for its harmonic, melodic and rhythmic complexity, where the musicians stand out for their variety of techniques that they execute in different rhythmic and genre scenarios. Likewise, being an experimental album, it constantly tests us and takes us on a small journey full of musicality and varied atmospheres. A sign that in Chile there are top-level musicians.  From: https://rocklegacy-cl.translate.goog/2021/05/21/review-mediabanda-bombas-en-el-aire/?_x_tr_sl=es&_x_tr_tl=en&_x_tr_hl=en&_x_tr_pto=sc

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Döda Havet - Flykten


Once in a while, an album shows up, almost out of nowhere, and instantly knocks me out cold, managing to hit all my weak spots and settle firmly in my ears. The Swedes in Döda Havet are balancing perfectly on that edge between being progressive rock, and on the other side clearly coming from the side of alternative / art-rock. Still, there are enough progressive elements and quirky songwriting here that any fan of bands like Anathema, Anekdoten, or late-era Marillion should find plenty to enjoy about “Tid och rum” (Time and Space). One of my fellow Progspace writers mentioned that they also feel like a sibling of Vulkan, another excellent Swedish band we reviewed here just a short while ago, and I can’t help but agree with him. It feels natural to describe the band simply as “progressive rock”, but that might conjure up images of the big 70’s bands. Döda Havet has definitely some of those genes in its DNA, but there is a much more contemporary, modern feel to the band’s music.
From reading my initial paragraph, I guess it’s apparent that I did not know about the band before this album dropped into my email.  But going back into their discography revealed only one previous release, namely their self-titled debut album from 2016. And honestly, since discovering the band, I’ve spent quite a few hours listening to the debut album as well. It’s excellent in so many ways, but this review is, of course, not about that album. I feel “positive melancholia” is a good way to describe the emotional impact of Döda Havets music. It’s that kind of good memory that shows up in your mind occasionally, of places and events in your life you enjoyed or people you loved, but at the same time a sense of sadness that you can’t go back there. Those moments are indeed lost in time and space.
There is a sense of longing in the swedes music, exemplified in a track like ‘Atlantis Mitt’ (which could mean “My Atlantis” in Swedish, but also “the centre of Atlantis”). A haunting, wistful melody, carried efficiently and with great pathos by vocalist and guitarist Staffan Stensland Vinrot. The track communicates a longing to find yourself, or perhaps your place among people. A feeling of finally returning to some honest sense of self. Vinrot is the core the band was built around, as the idea of putting together a band around his compositions happened after he recorded his music in the studio of, now Döda Havet bassist, Lawrence Mackrory.  I haven’t been able to find out if “Tid och rum” was recorded at the same location, but on this album, the sound is precise, warm and pleasant. As a side note, fans of more classic progmetal might, of course, know Mackrory from death/thrashers Darkane, or for being the vocalist on the original edition of Andromeda‘s debut album “Extension of the Wish.
A part of why I enjoyed this so much, is the lyrical content, where I, as a Norwegian, am luckily familiar enough with the Swedish language, to enjoy them. They are beautiful little poems and generally add to the overall melancholic feel of the album. I’m not gonna try my hand at translating the lyrical content, as with poetry or lyrics, I feel meaning often gets lost (or even added) in translation. But I can say as much as they are connected to the human experience, whether its dreams, mental-health, loneliness or a longing to find back to your true “home” and with that your honest self. I feel like Stensland Vinrot genuinely has something he wants to communicate with his lyrics and that sincerity is apparent in his writings.
After several listens, it starts to become clear how rich and detailed the music of Döda Havet really is. The songs are all layered with delicate melodies, supported by a warm hearty pulse perfectly applied by Mackrory, on top of a rock-solid rhythmic foundation built by drummer Martin Pettersson. Together with the guitars from the above mentioned Vinrot and Peter Garde Lindholm they create a surprisingly measured, yet massive sound. Listen to the ending of the second track of the album ‘Arcana’ for an example of the heavy groove the band at times creates. The heaviness mentioned above is perfectly contrasted and amplified by remarkable additions from keyboardist Julia Stensland Vinrot. She masterfully enhances the atmospheres created by the band, at times carrying the songs, and at other times supplementing the sound with delicious little intricacies. If there is an “unsung hero” in this band, it is her. Listen to the details of one of my favourite tracks, the heart-wrenchingly beautiful ‘Hjärnspöket” to hear examples of what I’m trying to describe.
In a genre where it feels like every other release is a 75-minute concept album, it is refreshing to receive a shorter, more concise release. “Tid och rum” is just around 35 minutes, and I feel that is the perfect length. That does not mean I do not want to hear more music from the band, but for this experience, it’s just what’s needed. Eight self-contained songs, uniformly connected by the general mood of the album. Nothing more, nothing less. I won’t go on any longer about the sophistication of this release. I’ll just say that“Tid och rum”, ladies and gentlemen, is a modest little masterpiece!  From: https://theprogspace.com/doda-havet-tid-och-rum/


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Gaye Su Akyol - Bir Yarali Kustum


Born in Istanbul in 1985, Gaye Su Akyol studied social anthropology at university and went on to forge a path as a successful painter, having her work exhibited both in Turkey and abroad. At the same time she also performed in the bands Mai (2004) and Toz Ve Toz (2007), and in 2009 she formed the duo Seni Görmem İmkansız (It's Impossible For Me To See You) with Tuğçe Şenoğul. After several years Akyol embarked on a solo career and, utilising the services of the three-piece band Bubituzak, released her first full-length Develerle Yaşıyorum (I’m Living With Camels) in 2014. Mixing up traditional Turkish melodies and structures with elements of psychedelia, surf rock and grunge, underpinned by a distinctively elegant and at times hypnotic vocal delivery, she was soon established as one of the country's most compelling contemporary voices with one eye locked on the past and the other fixed on future horizons. In addition, the unconventional theatricality she lends to her craft, whether performing live or conceptualising album artwork, provides a visual spectacle that seems perfectly married to her music. In 2016 Akyol released Hologram İmparatorluğu (Hologram Empire) on Glitterbeat Records and, further propelling the expansion of her musical boundaries, the new album İstikrarlı Hayal Hakikattir (Consistent Fantasy Is Reality) is released on 26 October, also on Glitterbeat. Shane Woolman caught up with her on a recent visit to the UK.

Shane Woolman: What are some of your earliest influences?

Gaye Su Akyol: The first things that really influenced me were my mother’s musical tastes and her beautiful voice. She was frequently listening to Turkish classical music at home from the only channel that existed on television, which was the government’s channel, and it was always playing old-school classical Turkish songs so I was always listening and trying to sing them. I see the essence of this when I look at my vocal technique. My second biggest crush was when I was about ten years old and I remember the first time I heard my older brother play Nirvana and my mind was blown, you know? I couldn’t believe it and I asked him "what’s that?" and he explained that this is Nirvana. This was in 1995 so Kurt Cobain was already dead. This was my second crush. After that I tried to find my own influences, digging into music with the help of my uncle who was listening to sixties and seventies rock’n’roll like Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin and the Rolling Stones. I found my own influences like Dick Dale, The Ventures, The Lively Ones, Jefferson Airplane, Morphine, Mudhoney, Sonic Youth and after that, when I was seventeen, it was artists like Nick Cave and Tom Waits – there were so many bands but these are just the first names that I remember. There’s also a long list of Turkish musicians like Erkin Koray, Barış Manço, Moğollar, Selda Bağcan, Müzeyyen Senar, Ulvi Cemal Erkin, Münir Nurettin Selçuk, Zeki Müren and so on.

Your father is a well-known artist, did he influence your desire to be an artist?

Of course, he had a huge impact. You know, when you are a child you assume that everybody’s parents are like yours, it’s such a big delusion. My father was always a free soul, he is a rock star in another universe [laughs]. Not the perfect type of father but one of a kind. Our house was covered with his paintings on the walls which I grew up looking at, writing stories in my mind all the time. He is also good at poems, words and metaphors, and he was always reading from his own poems or others from his favourite poets who were mostly his friends. Actually he influenced me with his way of combining his art with the culture he grew up in, without any prejudice and looking from a wider perspective. This is what makes his art original, instinctive, universal and timeless I guess. “Being yourself” is the key here. Have you seen the movie Big Fish? In it there’s a fantastic father who’s always telling amazing stories and you can’t be sure whether they are fake or real - his son in the film is not sure either - but who cares? And what does “real” mean anyway?

So music played a big part in your family life?

None of my family were professional musicians but lots of different genres were played at home which led me to a wide selection of music. My mother was listening to old, classical Turkish musicians like Müzeyyen Senar, Zeki Müren and Münir Nurettin Selçuk, while my father was listening to Turkish folk music like Ruhi Su and Aşık Veysel, and also Western classical music like Mozart, Beethoven, Stravinsky and Brahms. We were also living on the same street as my grandparents and my uncle. My uncle played the bağlama [a traditional Turkish stringed instrument] and was traveling a lot because of his job as a journalist. He collected musical instruments from all over the world, especially percussive ones, and we used to improvise with them when we got together. He also had a great collection of rock music from the 1960s and ‘70s. And my brother was listening to rock’n’roll and grunge bands so home was the beginning of my musical adventure.

It’s like the essence of what your music is.

Of course, and there’s so much music that I discovered later and all of this comes together, I guess.

You’re a big fan of Zeki Müren, who’s a very important figure in Turkish music and entertainment. What is it about him that you really admire?

You know, he had a unique voice and he didn’t look like anybody else or act like anybody else. He was one of a kind. He was also a dreamer, a revolutionary guy in Turkey’s conservative reality with his music and with his vision. He was an LGBT person so he made people accept him just by being the way he was, and this was something very huge and important for Turkey, and for the world of course. He created a revolution, that’s the point – with the combination of his music and his appearance, his choices – he carried classical Turkish music to a new level, took it from a small region and spread it to almost all of the social layers, he made it popular and glamorous. You know it’s not that easy to be an LGBT artist but he succeeded while gaining a lot of respect. And he was appearing on the government’s channels with all his clothes, jewellery and make up, which was really very surrealistic. He was the designer of these fantastic clothes by the way. So the point is this: he was like a superhero who damaged the norms while creating his own normal, and he made everybody believe in it.

He did a lot to make Turkish society accepting of openly gay artists. Is the Turkish music scene and society in general relaxed about that today?

Honestly this is a very complicated issue. I think it’s the same throughout the world, it has been changing a bit maybe in the last ten years, but I feel that people are very two-faced. The society we live in is not honest about gay people, minorities, different subcultures or inclinations. Frankly this is also the government’s conscious political view. To be able to control the people, they need obedient, regular, “normal” robots. So if we go back to your question: everybody will accept a gay artist until they are open!
This is what is going on in Turkey. Zeki Müren didn’t say at any point that he was gay but of course it was so obvious from everything he did. It feels like it’s okay until you confess it, not just in Turkey but in the world. It’s a great dissimulation. Nobody ever had the courage to openly ask him about it, or when they did he changed the subject or something, so I wish we could have a world where everybody can be who they want to be and confess anything they have inside, this is the freedom that we really need.
But society is two-faced. There are lots of gay social media phenomenons who have two or three million followers on Instagram in Turkey, they earn money from people’s enormous interest, but society refuses to see gay people in any other professions like the health industry or education system. They are only visible or to be accepted in the “entertainment industry” or live their life closely to be able to do their job. This is a taboo that needs to be broken as soon as possible and we should start to discuss it publicly.

Earlier you mentioned Selda. Was she a big influence?

Yeah. She’s a great musician with such a unique voice, she’s a producer, record label owner, she wrote songs, she is super talented about covering old folk songs and bringing new aspects to them. And what makes her story more unique is that she is also a revolutionary, a very important figure in liberalisation. You know, she always talked what she believed and was put in jail sometimes – so she was always for freedom. That’s why I’m really interested in her opinions, her music and her importance in Turkish music.

How was it to perform on the same bill as Selda recently?

It was an honour and a pleasure for me, a dream come true. But the funny part is we had never played together in Turkey, this was the first time. It was really beautiful, an historic moment.

Do you see yourself as continuing the issues of social justice, the things that Selda was concerned with in her music… do you see yourself as part of that same wave?

Different waves but the same sea! I think everybody is making their own waves and I prefer that, and of course Selda and I share the same ideas, the same philosophy about freedom, free minds, the equal rights of people, liberalisation. Whoever is really into freedom, we are in the same sea.

What are your thoughts on the current Turkish psych revival?

There are so many great, young bands in Turkey right now that really make cool music… it’s because, you know, when the pressure gets bigger, the art needs a way to express itself and grows insidiously. This is maybe one of the only good side effects of the situation there. But still most of them need to be more courageous and they shouldn’t be afraid of their own culture.

The title of your new album translates as Consistent Fantasy Is Reality which refers to a concept called consistent dreaming, which you regard as the strongest option people have "to challenge organised evil and the horrible reality it creates"... could you explain this idea a little further?

We are living in a dualist world full of injustice, inequality, and grief but also love, passion, and art at the same time. Life turns into what you are convinced of. People looking at the same point can perceive totally different things, so there is not “one reality”, there are actually infinite realities even in one mind. Reality changes according to an individual’s perception. So at this point my mind asks the question: if the reality we are living in is quite absurd but the only thing that makes it real is consistency, then what is the difference between a consistent fantasy and reality? We do not know if we are living in a simulation or holographic world but I do know that the software of this life is based on “dreaming the reality”. You can connect this with quantum theory or anything else. The world is ruled by idiots who lack imagination while the rest of the world feels powerless and hopeless. What these people are missing is the power of consistent dreaming. If we see the same dream then it becomes our mass reality and the only thing left is to take action which is quite simple when you believe in it. As Picasso once said “Everything you can imagine is real” and none of the organised evil can survive against it.

How long did the album take to record? Were most of the songs written in advance of the recording process or did they develop in the studio?

We recorded the guitar, bass, drums and percussion in three days. Then the additional instruments and vocals took a couple of weeks because of the concert traffic. After releasing the second album Hologram Imparatorluğu in 2016 the new songs started appearing and they were ready to be recorded in advance of the recording process.

The instruments used on the album have been expanded with the inclusion of the bağlama, saxophone, trumpet and electronic beats – was this a conscious step or more of a natural progression? Are there any specific sounds that you would like to incorporate in your music that you haven't yet used?

I love to expand the boundaries, to experiment and develop new sounds. I like to bring together the sounds that are not so much familiar to each other. It’s like in some languages there are words that don't exist in your mother language, so you realise that you’ve never felt that feeling before you heard that word. This is the same when it comes to music: the meeting of two harmonically unfamiliar sounds gives me the feeling of enthusiasm. When writing the songs I hear particular sounds and instruments for specific parts in my head while arranging them and the instrument serves the feelings and the mood. The arrangement of a song changes everything so I like to expand the musical boundaries as much as possible.

It's interesting to hear the cover version of Bariş Manço's “Hemşerim Memleket Nere” on your new album – the song's themes of equality are still extremely relevant in today's world. If you had to choose an English-language song to cover, what would it be?

“Hemşerim Memleket Nere” is a magnificent song with its lyrics, arrangement and Anatolian Rock essence. It is topical but also universal with it’s philosophy, metaphors and sounds. As you said, it is relevant in today’s world and that’s why I wanted to cover it. If I had to choose an English song to cover, it would be “Good” or “You Look Like Rain” by Morphine. I would put some Turkish instruments in it; probably bağlama, bendir and strings. Last year we did a cover of “Love Buzz” by Shocking Blue, also covered by Nirvana, and we sometimes play it at our concerts but haven’t released it yet.

You've recently been involved in the soundtrack of a Turkish television production called Dip. How different was the process of working on this project compared to recording an album? Are soundtracks an area you'd like to explore more in the future?

I love to collaborate with artists from different disciplines, either for a soundtrack to a film I like or something visual. Recording an album is pure freedom for me, I have my own plans, rules, and aesthetic preferences which makes the process more comfortable, but a soundtrack is a mutual relationship with lots of parameters and the process of working is often bound by the demands of the collaborator. Yet it is enjoyable when you like each other’s works. We recently performed in an old cinema, soundtracking an old Turkish B-Movie classic called Yilmayan Seytan while watching the film with the audience which was such great fun. These kind of unique ideas really motivate me. There were several new tracks made just for the film and we’re planning to release them as an album in 2019.

Have you got any other projects planned for the future that you'd like to talk about?

An album called Remiks Imparatorluğu will be released in 2019 which was curated by Kaan Düzarat and consists of remixes of tracks on my second album by DJs from around the world. Also a documentary film about Hologram İmparatorluğu will be released. It’s by Irmak Altıner and features the recording process and footage from various concerts plus music writer Murat Meriç’s analysis of my music’s historical and sociological context. A cover album with an anthology of old Turkish songs is another project for 2019.

From: https://www.thewire.co.uk/in-writing/interviews/gaye-su-akyol-interview


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Crown Lands - Lady Of The Lake


“It’s the classic story,” says Kevin Comeau of the band Crown Lands. “Most musicians and artists are usually the weird kids that don’t necessarily fit in. I was a big overachiever and worked really hard in school, but it wasn’t like I was interested in anything other than music.” As the only Jewish student at his Oshawa high school, Comeau found refuge in rock and roll and a kindred spirit in Cody Bowles, a Two-Spirit Mi’kmaw from the neighbouring community of Bowmanville. “I was the only kid in my school who listened to the kind of music that I did,” Bowles says, listing off a series of prog-rockers: Yes, King Crimson, Genesis and especially hometown heroes, Rush, whom both musicians idolize. “I grew up with a lot of racism, and it was a hard time,” Bowles adds. “We were like misfit kids,  and it was kind of fated for us to find each other.”
The pair met in university in 2015: Comeau studied classical music at Western University, while Bowles studied psychology and music at York University. The duo’s origin story reads like a real-life retelling of “Subdivisions,” the 1982 Rush song about alienated suburban teenagers. Comeau echoes that song’s lyric about learning to “conform or be cast out.” “We learned not to bring it up with certain people,” he says, referring to the intolerance the duo endured. “We knew if you meet someone and you hear them say a couple of weird things, you say ‘Great’ and just walk away.”
I spoke with Comeau and Bowles via Zoom from their homes in Toronto, just after they finished recording Crown Lands’ new live album, Odyssey Vol. 1, and just before the band headed out on an eastern Canadian tour. Growing up, Comeau and Bowles were careful to mask their identities despite being able to blend in. But now, the two friends are using their musical platform to stand up, stand out, and shine a light on the plight of Indigenous people.
“Being a band called ‘Crown Lands,’ we have to talk about what’s actually going on and the fact that Crown land is stolen land,” says Comeau. “We have to talk about colonization, the ramifications that are still being felt every single day, and the fact that it’s not ancient history.” “It’s ongoing and something we wanted to bring attention to, being in Canada and being a Canadian band,” Bowles adds. The duo didn’t start with a provocative name. “We were brainstorming all these terrible band name ideas,” Bowles says. “The Kevin and Cody Cool Guy Fun Time Hour,” Comeau jokes. When a friend suggested Crown Lands, the pair took a deep dive into Canada’s colonial past and present before deciding to take a stand. However, Bowles was initially uncomfortable with the idea of writing about issues that hit so close to home; they needed some convincing. Comeau recognized that taking on Indigenous themes struck at the core of his bandmate’s identity and didn’t press. But the pair had some frank discussions, and Bowles came around: “Given our platform and being able to talk about things, I felt a sense of honouring my path as a creative musician,” they say.
The pair have written  a trilogy of songs, “Mountain,” “End of the Road” and “White Buffalo,” that focus on the past, present and future of Indigenous people in Canada. Spanning four years, two EPs and a full-length album, the songs also track the band’s evolution from a punk-blues outfit reminiscent of The White Stripes to prog rockers who can compete with the likes of Primus, Tool and spiritual forebears Rush. Set against the backdrop of Comeau’s snarling slide guitar, “Mountain” recounts the arrival of European colonizers and the beginning of Indigenous resistance. “End of the Road” has Bowles singing about the plight of murdered and missing Indigenous women, girls, and Two-Spirit people in a voice that recalls Led Zeppelin’s Robert Plant (another major influence) and chords that echo Canadian new wave sensation Platinum Blonde. With its anthemic chorus, “White Buffalo,” the title track of the band’s most recent EP, uses the image of the creature as a call to reclaim ceded land, stand against the darkness and build a bright future: “Like a White Buffalo / Standing strong in the fading light / From deep in the shadows / Our spirits rise.”
The stark simplicity of these uplifting lyrics, combined with Bowles’ propulsive drumming and Comeau’s echo-soaked guitar solo—a tribute to Rush’s Alex Lifeson—showcase the band’s songwriting and performance skills. “White Buffalo” is a stadium-ready pop-prog gem that blends irresistible hooks, a powerful message and complex rhythmic and musical changes in a sub-four-minute song. “When we played a song like ‘Mountain’ about the horrors of colonization, Cody did a quick spoken word about missing and murdered Indigenous women, children and Two-Spirit people. Back in the days we were on tour, Indigenous women came up to us at the merch table and said, ‘Thank you for representing us,’” Comeau says. “That’s really fucking special, and that was when we realized we were absolutely doing the right thing.”
Taking a stand on Indigenous issues was a major step for the band in forging its unique identity. But expanding Crown Lands’ musical horizons was another way forward for Bowles and Comeau, one that meant embracing their prog-rock ambitions. “Kevin and I always loved prog,” says Bowles. “When we got together, we decided against going right there because it was so easy to do. But it was for a pragmatic reason, too. We thought that it would be better off to start with something easier to digest, easier to chew on.” “It’s easier to write three-minute songs,” agrees Comeau, but the band had a change of heart. “After our first record,” continues Bowles. “I was feeling more pulled to something more progressive, and we both felt that collectively. We were, like, fuck it! We’re just going to do this. We’re going to come together and really lean into what we were feeling this whole time.”
Embracing their roots and following in their heroes’ footsteps brought Comeau and Bowles into the orbit of three veteran producers who had worked with Rush. The duo recorded a demo of “Context: Fearless Pt. 1” in Toronto with Terry Brown, who helmed the first 10 Rush albums. In January 2020, they were headed to Nashville to cut a new version with producer Nick Raskulinecz, who had worked on the last two Rush albums, when they heard that Rush drummer Neil Peart had died. Devastated, Comeau and Bowles pondered cancelling the session, but the veteran producer urged them to carry the torch. When they started recording, he surprised them with Peart’s drum kit from Rush’s 2007-2008 Snakes & Arrows tour. It marked the beginning of a new chapter of Crown Lands’ existence and a return to their musical roots. “We went down there, and it was kind of like a rebirth of who we are musically. It was a high watermark for turning a new page and playing Neil’s kit was transcendent,” Bowles recalls. “It was like a return home because this was the music that Cody and I bonded over, and we were finally making music that sounded like the music we worshipped,” Comeau says. “With the people who actually made it,” interrupts Bowles. “It was absolutely surreal.” The band also penned “Right Way Back,” a lyrical tribute to Peart, during their time in Tennessee.
But the duo couldn’t return to Nashville to complete the recording session due to the pandemic, leading Crown Lands to work with a third Rush collaborator, David Bottrill, who had remixed Rush’s 17th album, Vapour Trails. Bottrill recorded the vocals for Bowles on the April 2021 single “Context: Fearless Pt. 1” and produced the band’s September EP, White Buffalo, which includes “The Oracle,” a 13-minute sequel of sorts to that earlier track. Crown Lands’ new live album, Odyssey Vo1. 1, was recorded at History, a new concert venue in Toronto’s East End, but without an audience. The show was captured on video, streamed on the Louder Sound network of websites (Prog, Classic Rock, Metal Hammer, and One Louder), and is currently available on the band’s YouTube page. The album itself will be released on Dec. 2 digitally and as a deluxe vinyl package. Inspired by the soundstage live performances of classic rock bands of the 1970s, Odyssey Vol. 1 captures the raw power of the Crown Lands concert experience. On stage, Comeau and Bowles reproduce their studio compositions without the benefit of sequencers and backing tracks. One can only marvel at two musicians producing so much sound.
In concert, the bearded Comeau stalks the stage, switching between acoustic and electric guitars, slinging a Rickenbacker double neck bass/guitar combo, kicking at Moog Taurus synthesizer pedals and even playing keys. The angelic Bowles seamlessly blends multi-octave vocals with frenetic polyrhythmic drumming and percussion, and has recently added traditional flutes and mandolin to their musical repertoire. Together, the pair is visually and aurally mesmerizing. Despite Comeau’s claims that they are rougher around the edges than their prog-rock progenitors, Crown Lands’ musicianship puts them on similar footing with their heroes. “We grew up loving prog bands from right before music videos blew up on MTV,” Comeau says. “You can find all these great live performances of bands on soundstages. Instead of miming to music, they were going in to play what they’d just finished in the studio. And a great example of that is the “Villa Strangiato” official music video [by Rush]. But it’s not the studio track. It’s one of my favourite live versions of the song. We kind of wanted to capture a bit of that as well. And obviously, you know, you can tell if a band is any good by going to watch their live stuff.”
As performers and individuals, Comeau and Bowles effortlessly blur the gender binary. Comeau, who describes both of them as feminine, bristles at traditional notions of masculinity. “There’s this weird expectation to play up to the rules that you were born into, and I think it’s kind of strange.” Adopting a cartoonish Tarzan voice, he adds: “You don’t have to subscribe to the societal notion, ‘Me man. Me must carry girl.’” “There’s no rulebook,” Bowles concludes. “It’s funny that people buy into it like it’s the law. But it’s fairly new in the timescale of the Americas that this rigid dichotomy between male and female has been in force. “Gender is ancient and fluid and unrestricted,” Bowles says “It’s only these things that we put upon ourselves and these limitations that we force upon ourselves that really confine our spirit. The more we let go and detach from this thought of what should be and the perception you were born like this, therefore you must be like this… if we can detach ourselves from thoughts like that, I feel like the world will be better, and people’s mental health will be way better than it is currently. “Everyone’s different in different ways, and there’s different modalities of being. I feel like there’s a real shift in young people’s awareness of this. I feel like in the future, it’s going to be brighter, more colourful, and people are going to be more themselves than ever.”  From: https://xtramagazine.com/culture/music/crown-lands-prog-rock-comeau-bowles-213645


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Pretenders - Birds of Paradise


Ah, the sophomore slump, which can happen when an artist who spent their whole life writing their first album has only a few months to write the next. Invariably, the record they rush to release pales in comparison to the debut that made them famous. This second album, often written on a tour bus instead of a bedsit (and sounding like it), habitually falls short. After that—and if they’re lucky—the artist will get a chance to rebound with the third LP, and the sophomore effort will subsequently be relegated to the cut-out bins.
The Pretenders avoided the sophomore curse with Pretenders II (which is aptly named since it is nearly a song-for-song copy of their eponymous introductory collection). Still, the album is full of energy and verve. It features the band’s signature blend of rock swagger and pop tenderness and contains one of the finest pieces frontwoman Chrissie Hynde ever wrote. It stands amongst the band’s best LPs, but it has the sad distinction of being the last recording made by the original lineup before the untimely deaths of lead guitarist James Honeyman-Scott and bassist Pete Farndon in 1982 and 1983, respectively.
Before that — in 1981 — the Pretenders were flying high from their debut’s success and were playing ever-larger venues on tour. Their manager, Dave Hill, was eager to strike while the iron was hot and release a follow-up. As Chrissie Hynde writes in her 2015 memoir, Reckless: “Dave Hill was panicking, desperate to get a second record out, but I didn’t have the songs written yet. I hadn’t had the time. I thought writing on the road would have happened, but it never does.”
They had found time to record a few tracks, including “Message of Love” and “Talk of the Town”, at Pathé Marconi Studios in Paris. These tunes (plus two new ones and a live recording of “Precious”) were released as the aptly named Extended Play stopgap EP in March 1981. Hynde felt their management had “jumped the gun” by releasing the new material. She explains, “We released it in the US and called it Extended Play to let the Yanks know that it wasn’t an album, but it was a mistake: they thought we’d gone soft in the head by releasing our much-anticipated second album, Extended Play, with only a handful of songs on it.” In the UK, the four new tracks were released as singles (“Message of Love” and “Talk of the Town” were backed by “Porcelain” and “Cuban Slide”, respectively). So, by the time Pretenders II came out five months later, two of its best songs were already known to the band’s devotees. And those weren’t the only songs that had a ring of familiarity.
“Birds of Paradise” and “Talk of the Town” are the highlights of Pretenders II, as they prove that for all her hard rock posturing, Chrissie Hynde can write the hell out of a ballad. Specifically, the former is a meditation on innocence lost and the road not taken (as seen from the vantage point of someone who’s vaulted to stardom, became prey to the vagaries of fame, and wished for a simpler time, all the while knowing there is no way back). Written in epistolary form to a long-lost friend, the song is full of melancholic regret at the chasm separating the two. I still get chills at the drum break that precedes its turning point: “One time, when we took off our clothes / But you were cryin’” and then again as Pete Farndon’s countermelody underscores Hynde’s plaintive lyrics: “Please don’t forget / Do forgive me”.  From: https://www.popmatters.com/pretenders-ii-atr-40

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The Shazam - Time 4 Pie


The Shazam are a criminally under-recognized power pop band hailing from the unlikely home of Nashville, Tennessee. They released four LPs between 1997 and 2009, as well as a few EPs and contributions to myriad tribute albums. Firmly on the ‘power’ side of the power pop genre, the Shazam’s sound is an amalgam of Cheap Trick, Material Issue, the heavier tracks on the first Big Star record, and the Who, infused by a healthy dose of ˈ70s glam from the T. Rex or Sweet playbook. At their best, the band and its frontman Hans Rotenberry manage a ridiculous number of earworm hooks, particularly on their essential second album.
The band’s self-titled 1997 debut is surprisingly self-assured, alternating between boisterous rockers that seem to make a bid for arena performances and more restrained, jangly, mid-tempo pop. Not everything hits, but the ratio of sing-along (or belt-along) choruses to less memorable tracks is pretty high for a power-pop long-player. Oh No in particular makes for a compelling band introduction, an energetic anthem that quickly establishes Rotenberry’s gift for radio-ready hooks, while showing off the joyously Keith-Moon-influenced drumming of Scott Ballew (who sadly passed away a few years back). Engine Red is more straightforward pop, a clever indictment of the party-crashing drunk that shows the band to be more lyrically amusing than most of their peers. Other winners like the gentler Megaphone, the anthemic Hooray For Me, and the glammed-up Florida, highlight the band’s stylistic range.
They took a huge leap forward on 1999’s Godspeed The Shazam, arguably one of the finest, most consistent power pop albums ever recorded, nearly every song offering at least one killer hook (if not more) that will be stuck in your head for days. It’s almost impossible to choose a few favorites for a Top 10, but the most obvious pick is Sunshine Tonight, a gleeful bit of Sweet-like high-energy bubblegum, easing from the slow burn of its verse to its chorus exhortation, “Everybody’s falling on their asses, come along ‘cuz it’s a gas gas gas!” Chipper Cherry Daylily offers a similar blast of light-hearted silliness tethered to giddy bubblegum, while the goofy City Smasher veers into a bass-driven faux metal groove with a sly insertion of a Surf City shout-out, over-the-top ridiculousness that demands wall-shaking volume. But the lighter, hook-crazy Calling Sydney and infectious lighter-hoisting power ballad The Stranded Stars, not to mention the whimsical post-election Super Tuesday – another spotlight for Rotenberry’s lyrical twists – are no less compelling.
The 2000 EP REV9 was a bit of a stop-gap pending their next album, a grab-bag of relative oddities. Lead-off track On The Airwaves is heavy-duty glam-pop that would have worked fine on Godspeed, with its blend of spooky theremin and a nicked Rush riff; and Month O’ Moons is cowbell-driven fun. But there are also some quiet ballads and stranger, more experimental tracks, most notably the studio goof Revolution 9, which updates the Beatles’ original with a rocking outro.
They returned in 2003 with Tomorrow The World, shaking off some of the daftness of the EP for a worthy (if less consistent) successor to Godspeed. Tomorrow’s peaks replicate the amped-up pop glory of its predecessor. Gettin’ Higher, like Sunshine Tonight before it, sounds like perfect fodder for Top 40 radio in an alternative universe where riveting guitar rock still has a place on the AM dial (plus, more cowbell!). We Think Yer Dead is rollicking fun, reprising the goofiness of City Smasher, while Nine Times stands firmly in comfortable power pop territory. Goodbye American Man (borrowing a riff from Big Star’s Don’t Lie To Me) and New Thing Baby sound like great lost 70s FM dial hits, all power chords and thunderous rhythm section.
The band took a few years off after that, returning in 2009 for the somewhat lackluster Meteor. Rotenberry comes up a bit short in the hooks department, resulting in a few tracks that feel more like underwhelming hard rock than the effervescent power pop of past work. Still, the album offers a few solid tracks. Hey Mom I Got The Bomb is silly fist-pumping fun, as is lead-off track So Awesome and NFU (as in, “not f*cked up enough”).
Sadly, Meteor was to wind up the band’s final proper album. However, it received a surprising coda with 2010’s Mountain Jack, which paired Rotenberry with the Shazam’s longtime producer Brad Jones (a power pop legend in his own right, with a lengthy resume as an artist and production whiz). It’s much more laid back than the heavy Meteor, peppered with acoustic guitars, and the hooks are more abundant. While the duo share vocal duties, it sounds like a stripped-down Shazam record, songs like Froggy Mountain Shakedown in particular worthy of inclusion in the Shazam discography.
Over the years, scattered among various tribute albums and online releases, the band also put together a nice assortment of covers worth tracking down, ranging from the Who’s I Can See For Miles to Shoes’ Hangin’ Around With You to Teenage Fanclub’s The Concept, all faithful to the originals with jolts of added energy. Word was that the band regrouped later in the decade for a new album, but Ballew’s passing in 2019 seems to have put the kibosh on further work, though one song from the sessions, the moody It’s Doomsday, Honey, streams on Spotify.  From: https://www.toppermost.co.uk/the-shazam/

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Niyaz - Minara


Singer Azam Ali was born in Iran, raised in India, and now lives with her Iranian husband, Loga Ramin Torkian, in Los Angeles. Their journey across oceans can be heard in their music. With producer Carmen Rizzo, they created a group called Niyaz, which means "yearning" in both Farsi, the language of Iran, and Urdu, the main language in Pakistan. Niyaz released it second album, "Nine Heavens," this year. It begins with a piece called "Beni Beni," which combines a mystical 18th-century Sufi poem with a traditional Turkish folk song and electronic music.

LIANE HANSEN: Azam and Loga are in our studios at NPR West. Thanks so much for coming to the program. Welcome.

Ms. AZAM ALI (Singer, Niyaz): Thank you so much for having us. It really is an honor to be here.

Mr. LOGA RAMIN TORKIAN (Singer, Niyaz): Yes, thank you so much for having us.

HANSEN: This is an interesting blend of modern electronica with a traditional folk song and sufi mysticism. Remind us briefly what Sufi mysticism is.

Mr. TORKIAN: Sufi mysticism came from Islamic tradition. It essentially developed in Iraq, about something around like 11th century.

Ms. ALI: If I may just add to that, one of the elements that's very appealing to us about Sufi poetry is that it does transcend cultural and religious specificity, because it really is more about the struggles of the human soul, the struggles of the human experience and something that we all share. It really is a universal struggle.

HANSEN: What does "Beni Beni" mean?

Ms. ALI: It means, to me, to me.  "Beni Beni" is really about man struggling with his soul, and he's asking God, well, you put me in this world with all its beauty and yet all I want is to find my way back to you. So you have put me here, and you have not shown me how - how I can find this way back to you. So just please show me, give me some sign, show me how I can find my way back to you.

Mr. TORKIAN: And if I may add, you know, even today, in a lot of Sufi gatherings is always complemented by rhythm and dance. And in fact, the most revered Sufi poet, Rumi, composed his poetries most of the time to the rhythm of what was being played in the gathering along - when the dancers were dancing.

HANSEN: Loga, let me ask you, because the instrumentation on this album is really impressive. Some of the instruments, what are we hearing?

Mr. TORKIAN: For example, I used saws. Saws is a Turkish instrument. I used the lafta, which is also a Turkish instrument. Then from Iran I used the sitar, and also I have created a new instrument called kamman, which is - comes from the family of spike fiddles, and a lot of the bold or the legato sounds were created by that instrument. And then, you know, we've had Indian instruments, the bansuri, which is a flute instrument, tabla, which is a percussive instrument.

HANSEN: Azam, I understand you trained with a Persian master and you're an accomplished hammered-dulcimer player.

Ms. ALI: Yes. Thank you.

HANSEN: Well, this is an instrument that many know because of its use in American folk music. You know, it's essentially a stringed instrument, and you play it almost like a Marimba with four small covered sticks. Is there a difference in the playing or the instrument itself when you play this music on the hammered-dulcimer?

Ms. ALI: Well, the technique is very different, and you know, almost every part of the world has a different variation of this instrument. The Persian style of playing is very much - you know, we mute the mallet, which, you know, trying to get the sound more softer and almost - if you open a piano, it looks identical, you know, it has the muted mallets. So in Persian classical music they try to make it sound more like a piano, but I prefer the bit more folky, sort of rough sound, so I just play it with the stick side.
 
HANSEN: Let me read the English lyrics, too. Faraghi, the separation has caused me immense sorrow. Destiny has me chained to this state. O beloved, release me from these chains for I am bound with the dust in this estranged land. What is it you seek from me that you cast your chains upon a free man?

Ms. ALI: It's very, very easy talking about a physical exile of being far from your homeland, or is it just the exile of a soul being separated from its creator?

HANSEN: Both of you are Iranian and you now live in the United States. Azam, you were raised in India. Can you just tell us a little bit about yourself because on the cover of the album it looks like Los Angeles meets New Delhi meets Iran.

Ms. ALI: Yeah, well, you know, my mother sent me to India when I was four years old to study in an English boarding school, and then the Revolution happened, I was pretty much stuck in India. My mother was in Iran, and I didn't see her for a good six years. And then my mother escaped after, you know, during the Revolution, and she came to India. She lived there for two years. And when I was 15 years old, we came to the U.S. under political asylum because my mother didn't want to go back to Iran.  So, you know, I've been here since 1985, you know, just trying to do the best that I can. It's been very challenging. I came during a difficult time, you know, soon after I was here, you know, Desert Storm. I mean, since I can remember, always, there is so much negative media around Iran and especially nowadays. It's virtually impossible to turn on the news and not hear something negative about Iran. And it's really a struggle for, I would say, every Iranian. You know, in many ways my life's work has become about this. You know, create something that hopefully transcends religion and culture and show people that, you know, at the core, we are all the same.
I tried so hard to just be American and just sort of almost reject my heritage. And it got to a point where I realized, you know, I'm never going to be 100 percent American. I'm never going to 100 percent fit in. So then I began to process within myself of sort of going back and learning about my own culture, embracing my culture. And once I did that, you know, I began to feel much more, sort of, whole. This music is an honest, honest manifestation of who we are as Iranian immigrants.

HANSEN: Azam Ali and her husband Loga Ramin Torkian are members of the ensemble, Niyaz. Their recording, "Nine Heavens," is available on Six Degrees Records. They spoke to us from our studio at NPR West. Thank you so much.

Ms. ALI: Thank you very much for having us.

Mr. TORKIAN: Yes, it's our honor to be here.

From: https://www.npr.org/transcripts/95607779

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Daisy House - Leaving The Star Girl


Just stepped out the Tardis, back from a quick trip to San Francisco circa 1967 and I could swear I heard Daisy House blasting out of some greasy spoon on the Castro. They’re that authentic. Welcome to Daisy House. If you love Joni Mitchell, the Mamas and Papas, the Byrds, Buffalo Springfield, or Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, then you are going to want to stay awhile. I went to their bandcamp site to download just a few choice cuts but ended up buying it all – they’re that good. It’s not just that they emote a particularly addictive blend of 1960s folk rock and killer harmony vocals; the songwriting is also first class. Daisy House are a father and daughter duo, Doug and Tatiana Hammond, with dad writing and playing on nearly all the songs while both provide vocals. Over four albums, they have developed their clear influences into an impressive body of work.
The debut is simply 2013’s Daisy House. The basic formula is here: twelve string acoustic and electric guitars, a celtic twist in the songwriting, with vocals reminiscent of Joni Mitchell (on “Ready to Go” and “Cold Ships”), the Mamas and Papas (on “Two Sisters”), and Richard and Linda Thompson (on “The Bottle’s Red”). The Byrdsian influence is particularly strong with dad’s vocal on “Statue Maker.” 2014’s Beaus and Arrows reproduces the ambience of the debut, with a few new surprises, like a very early solo Paul Simon atmosphere on the Salinger-inspired “Raise the Roof Beam Carpenter.” I agree with Don over at I Don’t Hear a Single, the first two albums draw heavily on 1960s British and American folk idioms.
Things break out in new directions with 2016’s Western Man. There is an eerie mystery to the musical ambiance of the opening track, “Lilac Man,” that signals a significant stylistic shift. “Yellow Moon Road” expands the duo’s palette to include more 1960s garage rock sounds, particularly some cool organ. And the songs are amazing. “Like a Superman” has a clear Mamas and Papas stamp, “She Comes Running to Me” is lathered with great harmonies, while “Twenty One” opens with a deliberate homage to “When You Walk in the Room” before branching into its own original sound. But the album’s highlight is undoubtedly the hit single-worthy “The Boulevard.” You can just hear Mama Cass belting it out while the Wrecking Crew provides the crisp, swinging backdrop – except that it is not those amazing performers, it is these amazing performers: Daisy House.
This year’s Crossroads is another breakthrough for the duo, putting their sound more solidly on the rock side of folk rock. On “Languages” Tatiana sounds like a young Chrissie Hynde. This is the hit single, but there are many more highlights. The title track, “Crossroads,” has some Tom Petty Wildflowers-era bite while “Leaving the Star Girl” ramps up the Byrds influences. Dad is featured vocally on the evocative Paul Simon-esque, acoustic-based “Pristy Lee” and the more Byrdsian “The Girl Who Holds My Hand,” both strong songs and performances. But the highlights for me, beyond the obvious single (“Languages”), are two Tatiana vocals, the Kate Bush-like atmosphere on the beautiful and haunting vocal of “Albion” as well as the more Chrissie Hynde delivery of “Night of the Hunter.” Daisy House are a fully formed artistic wonder, inspired by the electric folk music and harmonies of the 1960s but entirely their own thing in terms of original material and performance. Visit them online, buy their music, see them live, now.  From: https://poprockrecord.com/2017/06/28/welcome-to-daisy-house/

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