Grab Bag

I have a tremendous amount of music that I am excited about. Some is by artists I have been following, while some is in the new discovery category, and some is from people who I became friendly with before I ever heard their music. So, when I receive music submissions for Oliver, I often have to set some of it aside for the dreaded later. And while I wish I could get to all of it, for some, later never comes. So this week, I thought that I would pick five artists from the “for later” pile, and call it a set. I cheated a bit by starting with eight albums and whittling it down. Still, here are five artists whose albums I hadn’t gotten to, and who are just as worthy as anyone else I have ever featured.

Update: I had accidentally loaded several of the songs in this post as WMA files. I have now replaced them with the mp3 versions. Thank you to the anonymous reader who pointed this out, and I apologize for the inconvenience.

Allysen Callery: Favourite Son

[purchase]

I have featured Allysen Callery before, but her new EP Winter Island got set aside because of the packaging. This one was issued in a limited addition, and it came in a plastic sleeve inside a cloth pouch. It didn’t fit safely on my CD pile, so I set it aside. But Allysen Callery and Winter Island deserve better. Until now, I have only heard Callery with a full band behind her. I admired her quiet intensity, and the folkloric quality of her writing. But here she is solo, just her voice and guitar. And this setting is a revelation. The first thing I noticed is that Callery is a fine finger style guitar player. Her playing tends to blend in in a group setting, but here she shines all on her own. I am reminded of what the ancient Irish believed about their bards. It was said that a bard could cast a spell with just his harp playing and his voice, and the spell would transport the listeners to another world while the song played. Most but not all of the listeners would make it back when the song ended. Callery displays that kind of otherworldly ability here, and Favourite Son is a fine example.

Giant Cicada: Gonna Get Through

[purchase]

Giant Cicada is a group that makes music in the cracks. Is this jazz, folk, Americana, what? Some of my favorite music doesn’t fit neatly in any genre, and I will add this to the list. The rhythm section of this band is a cajon, (a hand-played box drum), and bowed bass. On top of this, add guitar, fiddle, and the wonderful vocals of Lynn Stein. There is also bottleneck guitar on some tracks. Gonna Get Through has a Brazilian lilt, both in the playing and in Stein’s vocal. But the song also has the propulsive drive of 80s rock. Giant Cicada’s gift is to take these incongruous elements and have them make sense together. Stein is an emotional singer who never has to shout, and that really puts this album over the top.

Anthony Walker: Forget the Railroad

[purchase]

Anthony Walker’s new album This City Won’t Sleep was the last album I grabbed for this post. It was still in its shrink wrap, and I knew I must have heard something I liked, but I couldn’t remember why I requested it. Now I do. Walker sings in a high tenor that is an excellent rock instrument. Many of the songs here do in fact rock out, and it’s a great sound. But for me, the quieter songs are the standout tracks. That’s because they focus your attention more on the lyrics, and Walker is a great storyteller. Forget the Railroad seems to be set in the here and now, but Walker provides a line of flashback here and there, and pretty soon the listener can fill in the history of a relationship. Probably, no two listeners would tell it quite the same way, but all of the essential details are here. Walker gives all the clues, and he makes you want to fill in the details. That’s a pretty good definition of fine songwriting.

Postcard Comets: The Guardhouse and the Moon

[purchase]

I first met David Partridge of Postcard Comets quite some time ago, in an online song review group, and later in an acoustic music forum. Many of the people who are to be found in these places are amateur musicians, trying to get better at what they do and maybe make an album some day. But not Postcard Comets, at least not by the time I met them. Their music stood out, it because it was ready for the big(ger) time. I remember that, but I didn’t remember exactly what it sounded like. So when Partridge offered me their new album for the blog, I knew I wanted it, but I didn’t remember why. Now I remember.

Postcard Comets is the duo of Partridge and Buck Wilburn. Between them, they play seven instruments by my count, so the sound on the album is that of a full band. Partridge does most of the writing, and he is an expert scene setter. In The Guardhouse and the Moon, I can see that night sky as I listen, and I can feel that cold autumn breeze blowing on me. Partridge’s voice has the texture of fine sandpaper, but he knows how to use that to his best advantage. Wilburn contributes a great part on lead acoustic guitar, with something of a Spanish flavor. All told, the emotion of this song comes through loud and clear. The subject is two childhood friends parting, as one begins military service. There are not all that many songs on this subject, so Partridge shows himself to be not only an evocative songwriter, but also a true original. The Guardhouse and the Moon is no fluke either; there are many other gems to be found on this album.

Carrie Graham: Mirrors

[purchase]

I met Carrie Graham in that same acoustic music forum I referred to above. She sent me her EP Notes From the Nut Hatch just over a year ago. So why did it take me so long to get to her? Graham’s EP is only available as a download, so it has sat on my hard drive all this time, waiting for me to remember that it was there. It was knowing that I would be posting Postcard Comets that reminded me. So, Carrie, I’m sorry this took so long.

Graham sings in a slightly breathy low alto, and it’s a great sound. She writes little unsettled love songs, and her performances perfectly portray these feelings. The rest of the songs on Nut Hatch fall loosely into the Americana category, and Graham does that very well indeed. But Mirrors is something else again. This one has a stuttery rhythm and great atmosphere. The narrator might have been transported to the Otherworld by Allysen Callery’s bardic arts, and now she seeks her way back through love. That might sound corny, and it probably isn’t exactly what Graham had in mind. But the song really works. The purchase link above will take you to Graham’s Bandcamp page, where you can purchase a download of Nut Hatch. There is also a link on the sidebar to a new song. Graham’s writing continues to develop, and her originality increases. I hope that there is a full length album in the future, and I hope I can get it as a physical CD, so I can share it here in a timely manner.

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One last thing: I would like to congratulate Teresa Storch on the success of her Kickstarter campaign. To all of my readers who were able to help, thank you.

Between the Cracks

The major labels are always looking for artists who fit in neat categories, to simplify their marketing efforts. Artists know this, and try to make music that will fit. But some artists are driven to make music that falls between the cracks, that fits no musical genre very well at all. Sometimes, there are traces of various musical genres, but combined in unexpected ways. And sometimes there is no genre that can describe the music fairly. Always, these artists show a fierce originality. Some of the worst music I have ever heard is like this; the artist creates something abstract, without the slightest regard to connecting with their potential listeners. But some of the best music I have ever heard also defies categorization. Just as the English language is neither French nor German, but is derived from both, this music is a new language, but one that speaks eloquently.

Laura Siersema: Eileen

[purchase]

For my recent Jazz Singers Spotlight, I included a song from Laura Siersema’s latest album. It was the sound of an artist who has found her voice. But ten years earlier, the Tampa Tribune said of her debut album, “Folk fans should take note as well as those who like classical and Tori Amos”. Translation: “I have no idea what to call this, but I like it.”. Tori Amos comes up because Siersma sings and plays piano; the classical reference has to do with how Siersma sings; and Siersma does include three folk songs on the album, but does not perform them in a folk manner.

Listening to this album now, and knowing where Siersema’s muse would take her, I can hear full arrangements in my head for these songs. What feels like a vaguely classical vocal here becomes a jazz vocal when paired with a full band. I applaud Siersema for letting her music take her where it needed to go. That said, the songs on this first album do stand up as they are. And the spare arrangements help to emphasize what a fine character writer Siersema is.

Allysen Callery: Hobgoblin‘s Hat

[purchase]

The music of Allysen Callery is almost folk. She plays a nylon-strung acoustic guitar, which is a little unusual, but she plays finger-picked lines that sound suitably folkish. It’s the rest of her arrangements the knock her out of the running. There no drums, but there are bass, electric guitar, and some keyboards. It’s the electric guitar lines that are especially not folk. These are almost like a second voice, and they give these songs an otherworldly air. Callery sings in a voice with a slight childlike quality. And this suits her songs beautifully.

If I tell you that Callery’s writing shows her love of fairy tales, I hope you won’t think of Disney movies. Callery knows that fairy tales are richer and stranger than that, and often darker. She conveys a sense of wonder in these songs. Callery also knows that fairy tales convey a full range of human emotions. Like the wonderful illustrations in the Andrew Lang fairy tale collections, Callery’s songs take you to another world. It’s not clear whether that world is within or without, nor should it be.

We Are the Willows: Norwalk, Iowa

[purchase]

Goth-grass? The title of the album is A Collection of Sounds and Something Like the Plague. The first song opens with a repeating figure on banjo, and the rest of the song forms and mutates on top of that. Later in the album, there is electronic percussion that usually seems to pull against the beat. This is all the work of one man, Peter Michael Miller. Yes, that high voice you hear is a man. This countertenor vocal is no gimmick; Miller really makes it work, and is perhaps the most emotive singer in this post.

Miller’s songs start with a simple groove, often on an acoustic instrument, and other instruments don’t so much join in as intrude. Some of the songs threaten to descend into chaos, but it never actually happens. This device becomes an expression of emotional turbulence, and the resolution is not always comfortable. But it is very effective. These are songs of heartbreak, and Miller does not go quietly. But he never pushes the listener away either.

Flotilla: Ghost in a Landscape

[purchase]

Flotilla’s album one hundred words for water opens with drums, bass, and electric guitar, as well as lead vocals. I think I hear some keyboard in there as well, but still not that unusual. About half way through the song, a synthesizer line shows up that sounds like a calliope. A little odd, but nothing I can’t handle. Towards the end of the song, there is an abrupt tempo change. So it’s a little complicated, but we can still call it rock. But wait, there is a member of the band who you haven’t even heard yet, and he plays harp. And I don’t mean harmonica, I mean harp.

The harp produces ripples of sound that radiate out into a room. Flotilla gets this effect with a full band. The music is also intensely rhythmic. Veronica Charnley is the songwriter, and she plays guitar and provides the vocals. She sings in a passionate soprano. One of the songs here is called Ophelia, as in Shakespeare. Charnley writes songs with unusual characters and points of view. She gets inside these characters, and makes us believe in them.

Ljova and the Kontraband: Crutchahoy Nign

[purchase]

I feel lucky to present to you the music of Ljova and the Kontraband. Ljova, aka Lev Zhurbin, is a Russian born violist who has worked with the Kronos Quartet, Yo-Yo Ma, and Jay-Z, to name a few. And he contacted me, to see if I would be interested in his music.

The album is called Mnemosyne, and she was the Greek goddess of memory. The memory here is of a time and place that may or may not have ever existed, but is real in the minds of the musicians. This music is about what their heritage means to them. A diverse group, this means that there are shades of klezmer, jazz, classical, cabaret, and gypsy music, to name a few. That the album makes sense as a whole is a tribute to the talent of all the musicians involved.