Thursday, February 4, 2010

For a Song: John of Dreams



Mick Moloney with Eugene O‘Donnell: John of Dreams

[purchase]

It must have been 1979. I attended a wonderful concert by Mick Moloney and Eugene O’Donnell. As I recall it now, this was my introduction to Celtic folk music, and what an introduction it was. Moloney plays banjo, guitar, and bouzouki, while O’Donnell is a great fiddler. Both were born in Ireland, and both found their way to Philadelphia where they met. And both, while staying in America, have dedicated themselves to preserving the heritage of Irish music as they learned it. Moloney in particular has done some very interesting projects lately, concerning his heritage and the immigrant experience in America.

But I learned all of that later. In 1979, I only knew that I had found a new (to me) type of music that sang to me. The pair performed both instrumental dance pieces and songs. They had released a pair of albums at that time. Both musicians shared duties on both albums. O’Donnell’s album was entirely instrumental, and a great introduction to jigs and reels and such. Moloney’s album had songs sung by Moloney, alternating with instrumental pieces, but where the fiddle was not necessarily the featured instrument. Both albums were fine documents that helped me recall a great show.

But the songs on Molney’s album struck me particularly. John of Dreams was one of those, a beautiful lullaby. If the melody sounds familiar, it is a folk melody that Tchaikovsky adapted for his Pathatique Symphony. The words are by English folk singer Bill Caddick. But Moloney and O’Donnell make the song sound thoroughly Irish.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Carrie Newcomer - Before & After



[purchase]

There is an instrument which, in English, is called a talking drum. Among the Yoruba people of Nigeria, it is believed that a master player can give a talking drum an actual voice. On Before & After, Carrie Newcomer gets a similar effect in places from the entire band. It’s a remarkable sound. It is a voice and a pulse combined, and it is what a heart would sound like if it could talk.

Newcomer sings in a warm alto, mostly quiet or quieter. She is able to get the emotion of her work across without having to raise her voice, and she is a master of subtlety. She can be sweet or tender, but she can also be strong in her beliefs, but never strident.

Her band supports her with an appropriately light touch, but they vary the textures just enough to make this an interesting listen. There is wonderful string work, from violin, viola, or cello, but never all of them at once. There is a basic band of drums or percussion, bass, keyboards, and acoustic guitar, with some electric guitar added in for color. But the sound is mostly acoustic. Newcomer doesn’t usually need much help here on vocals, but she sometimes likes to blend with another singer on the chorus. So Krista Detor, Michael White, coproducer David Weber, and Mary Chapin Carpenter each take a turn. And she gets a gospel effect on one song, and something that reminds me of Paul Simon’s Graceland album on another, by using chorused background vocals.

Newcomer does a good job of presenting varied subjects in the songs here. There is one love song, of course, and it’s a good one. Hush presents love at the point where one person instinctively knows what the other needs. The song is wonderfully tender. There are a variety of songs about finding your way through life. Before and After is about coming to terms with a pivot point in your life, a time when something happens that changes you ever after. But Newcomer is interested here in what happens once you have had time to digest the experience. There are other times when you have an experience that seems significant, but you can never quite put your finger on why; I Do Not Know Its Name details a string of these, and they seem to add up. This is one of those moments I mentioned earlier, where the band becomes one percussive voice. Coy Dogs are half dog and half coyote; Newcomer uses their split nature as a metaphor for times when our wild and tame urges are in conflict. The musical setting makes this tension palpable. Then there is the sweet nostalgic feel of I Wish I May, I Wish I Might, which is about state fairs in Indiana. And the album concludes with a “bonus track”, A Crash of Rhinoceros. Newcomer should include this one if she is ever asked to do a children’s concert, and I mean that as a compliment. This one has a wonderful sense of whimsy, as it tells of Adam and (mostly) Eve naming the animals.

Special mention should be made of the song Do No Harm. Back in 2007, Newcomer was involved in a project called Wilderness Plots. The short stories of Scott Russell Sanders were adapted into a stage work which featured new songs by Newcomer and several other Indiana-based songwriters. The stories concerned the settling of the Ohio Valley. The Wilderness Plots project resulted in a stage show, an album of the songs, and there was even a PBS version shown on local TV stations. For Do No Harm, Newcomer has returned to the stories of Scott Russell Sanders, to tell a harrowing tale of the arrival of Quakers in the region. This seems to me to be the most heartfelt song on the album.

So Before & After is a set of beautifully arranged and realized songs. Newcomer explores an impressive range of subjects, and nails it every time. This one comes out on February 23. Make sure to grab it when it does.

Carrie Newcomer: I Do Not Know Its Name

Carrie Newcomer: Coy Dogs

Saturday, January 30, 2010

It’s About Time



Time is my theme this week. I can think of a number of puns to describe many of the available songs on the subject. “That’s really old”, for example. Time is something we all live with, so it is the subject of almost as many cliches as love. Even the titles of my selections reflect this. Nevertheless, each of these artists finds something fresh to say on the subject, or a fresh way to say it.

Dee Carstensen: Time

[purchase live version]

[support Dee Carstensen by purchasing the original studio version here]

Dee Carstensen contemplates old age and mortality in Time. Her narrator has reached a point in her life where her main concern is the emotional legacy she leaves in her children. The spare arrangement heard here is from a live performance at the Kerrville Folk Festival, and it suits the material beautifully. That string instrument that sounds wrong to be a guitar is a harp, Carstensen’s main instrument.

In researching this post, I learned that Carstensen had been diagnosed with liver cancer, and that she had received a liver transplant. After 2007, information is scarce. So if anyone knows what and how she is doing now, please share that information in the comments. Thank you.

David Wilcox: It‘s Almost Time

[purchase]

David Wilcox starts It’s Almost Time as a statement of faith that a long cold winter is almost over. He sets his song firmly in a seaside town. I don’t live at the shore, but here in New Jersey, we just had a week of weather which gave a tease of spring, but now we have settled back into winter. That only makes it feel colder, and makes this song resonate more. By the end of the song, it is clear that this winter is emotional as well as meteorological. No one that I know of puts this kind of song over better than Wilcox, and this is no exception.

Tracy Chapman: This Time

[purchase]

This Time is a resolution to not get hurt again. Or maybe it’s a reminder. Either way, this is a rebound song. Chapman’s character has been through a hurtful relationship, and she wants the guy to take all the risks this time. The narrator may be trying to break a pattern that has haunted her through a series of relationships. Chapman presents the resolve, but also the uncertainty that her narrator can go through with it.

Just as the words present a state of emotional flux, so too does the music. Passages with not much more than acoustic guitar and voice alternate with pulses of the full band. Throughout, a ghostly violin part haunts the narrator, reminding her of her doubts.

Peter Himmelman: Time Just Flew

[purchase]

Time Just Flew looks back at a long-term relationship, and also takes stock of its current condition. The conclusions are unclear. Time in this one is a windstorm, sweeping away everything in its path. So the song is an emotional catching of breath. I think that’s an important thing to do, but it can be more than difficult to find the time.

Lyle Lovett: Since the Last Time

[purchase]

The emotions in this post have been pretty heavy, so let me end things on a joyous note, at a funeral. I’m serious. In New Orleans, funerals are occasions to celebrate the life of the departed. There are parades, and happy recollections. Sorrow follows later perhaps, and in private. Lyle Lovett does not come from New Orleans, but this song reflects this spirit.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

For a Song: She Just Wants to Dance



Keb‘ Mo‘: She Just Wants to Dance

[purchase]

“Care to dance?” It’s a simple question, but it’s also complicated. Somehow, it has acquired all sorts of baggage. The words don’t say anything about leaving together, or doing anything other than dancing. But no one ever answers the question without considering all of this. So, what happens if all you really want is to dance?

Keb’ Mo’ presents a woman who has an answer to this question. She exists outside of the meat market. There she is on the floor, by herself, and completely free. She dances with no ulterior motive, but just for the love of it. The song does not speak of it, but we can imagine that she provokes reactions in all who see her. The men, including the singer, are amazed at her total lack of an agenda. It makes her all the more desirable to know that she isn’t here for that.

Gaye Adegbalola does a wonderful cover of this song. Because Adegbalola is another woman, we as listeners think about how other women react to this. There is, I think, a certain kind of jealousy. The other women are there playing the game they cannot get free of, and the freedom of our solo dancer seems impossible. They wish they could drop their own agendas, and be her. But they cannot.

None of this is in the lyrics, so perhaps my interpretation is a projection of my own agenda. Keb’ Mo’ just paints a beautiful picture of a free woman, and leaves the rest to the listener.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Jo Hamilton - Gown



[purchase]

Where did that come from? The question could refer to the fact that I am reviewing this album. It’s not my usual fare by any means. Jo Hamilton sings in a breathy purr that can rise to a full voice belting vocal within the same song. She has a warm quality, and her voice is a great pop instrument. She could change the production and arrangements on some these songs ever so slightly, and have massive hits. But here, she preserves her individuality, and I value that.

“Where did that come from?” might be about the arrangements here. At first listen, most of the songs here seem fairly straightforward. Yes, there are dynamic shifts, beautifully executed, but the songs seem fairly consistent. But, listen closer, and you will notice instruments and sounds making their appearance in a song when least expected.

Finally, “Where did that come from?” might be about the album as a whole. I can hear the influence of Kate Bush in the first few songs. But then, there is a lovely ballad, Paradise, with a samba flavor to it. There is an almost R & B tune, but for the double tracked sax and clarinet part that almost sounds like avant-garde jazz. And towards the end, there is even a waltz. Amazingly, the album does not sound at all like an I-pod Shuffle gone mad. Hamilton ranges through a wide variety of musical styles, and she makes it all hang together and make sense.

Musically, the first song, Exist (Beyond My Wildest Dreams), is the wildest. I probably wouldn’t have opened the album with it myself. Exist opens quietly, but soon swells into a fine dance groove, but then it almost completely falls apart. You almost have to imagine the beat until it reappears briefly later. And then it almost falls apart again, and reforms. This one makes the listener work, and it’s worth it, but, as the lead track, it sets up the idea that the whole album is going to be like this. In fact, everything else on the album is far more accessible.

Pick Me Up follows, and is a much better example of how the album works. This one sets up a groove and stays with it. There is a backing vocal part which seems to pull the rhythm off, but actually only strengthens it. And Hamilton’s lead vocal purrs on the verses and soars on the chorus.

Next is There It Is. This is a beautiful ballad, featuring acoustic guitar and stand-up bass, and again Hamilton shines on vocals. This is the first time on the album where she shows what she can do with a pure ballad.

I’m not going to go through the album song by song. This is enough to give you the idea. There are more grooves to be found. Hamilton also continues to shine on the ballads. And there are a few places where grooves and balladry are found in the same song. It all works. The textures vary throughout the album, making this a very satisfying listening experience.

For me, most of the lyrics do not stand out as much. Many of them strike me as sort of lyrical fortune cookies; they could be love songs or something else, but they are general enough to apply to any listener. The exceptions to this are all the more noticeable. In Paradise, and especially in Mekong Song, Hamilton evokes a very specific sense of place. In Mekong Song, I felt like I was on that boat on the river, listening to the gentle lapping of the water. I also like the way Hamilton captures the excitement of the beginning of spring in Winter is Over.

To conclude, Gown is a debut album by an artist who shows that she will be well worth keeping an ear out for. I will be very disappointed if Jo Hamilton decides to become a generic pop diva. But, if she continues to find her own voice and her own way, I look forward to the results.

Jo Hamilton: Pick Me Up

Jo Hamilton: Mekong Song

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Journeys By Water



The image I have chosen for this post is the tarot card for the six of swords. I enjoy the artwork in tarot decks, and understanding the meaning of the cards helps me appreciate the intent of the artist. But sometimes, people get carried away, and make their interpretations overly esoteric. The classic image for the six of swords says it all: the card signifies a journey by water. This can be taken literally. Metaphorically, it represents a rite of passage. This kind of journey often involves a triggering event, often emotionally painful, which prompts the journey in the first place. The card shows the journey in progress; it has nothing to say about the outcome.

Al of the above applies equally well to songs about journeys by water. Let’s consider some examples.

Hem: Sailor

[purchase]

Sailor is a song of yearning. The narrator is in love, but does not know if her love is returned. She will leave the shore to see the object of her affection, and hope for the best. The lyric is pretty simple, but Hem does a beautiful job of filling in the blanks with the musical setting.

Richard Thompson: Mingulay Boat Song

[purchase]

Mingulay Boat Song is thought by many to be a traditional Scottish folk song. It describes the life of a crew of simple fishermen, eager to come to shore and be reunited with their families. But the song is actually a nostalgic piece, idealizing a life that no longer existed at the time it was written.. The island of Mingulay, of the coast of Scotland, had been occupied continuously for at least two thousand years, until it was abandoned in 1912. Mingulay Boat Song, however, wasn’t written until 1938, by Sir Hugh S Roberton, in Glasgow. Roberton wrote the song for the Glasgow Orpheus Choir, which he directed from 1901 to 1951. The choir started as an amateur choir associated with a men’s work society, but Roberton set high standards for the group. In time, they would achieve a measure of fame, both in Europe and North America.

Mingulay Boat Song has passed into the folk cannon by now. Richard Thompson’s performance clearly shows why.

Elvis Costello: Last Boat Leaving

[purchase]

Returning to our theme of rites of passage, we come to Last Boat Leaving. Elvis Costello wrote this one, under his given name of Declan McManus, for a movie called The Courier. The film tells the story of a man who discovers that the courier company he works for is a cover for a big-time drug dealer. After Costello finished the song, the film makers changed the ending of the movie, and the song no longer worked. So a shorter instrumental version was used in the film, and the full version heard here was released on Costello’s next album.

I assume that the original version of the movie had the hero going to jail at the end. Last Boat Leaving is a tale of a man regretting his actions once he finds that he is to be separated from his family and sent to prison. Clearly, for him, this will be a rite of passage. The man who left will not be the same man who returns. It’s not necessary to see the film to appreciate this song, and I have never seen it. The song speaks for itself.

John Wesley Harding: William Glenn

[purchase]

William Glenn is another song of crime and punishment. Glenn is a sea captain who has committed a murder on land for the love of another man’s wife. When he and his crew set out to sea, they are beset by a deadly storm. Once the crew learns of Glenn’s crime, they cast him overboard. Immediately, the storm ceases, and the crew is saved. Glenn’s journey takes him to the point where he can admit his guilt, and save his crew if not himself.

The song lightly touches on an old Celtic belief. Death, the ultimate rite of passage, is often depicted in the old tales as a journey over water. The spirits of warriors who fell in battle would be collected and taken to the sacred island of Tir na Nog. In many of the oldest songs of the British Isles, one finds death and the ocean side by side.

Sting: The Wild Wild Sea

[purchase]

The Wild Wild Sea, it seems to me, is a tale of a haunted dream. The black sails suggest death, and the way the character appears in the song suggests that the father is a ghost. Indeed, the song comes from Sting’s album The Soul Cages, which he wrote while dealing with the deaths of his parents. Just as William Glenn presents the journey toward death as a voyage through a stormy sea, so is the journey through the mourning process. I have several friends, and I can also include myself in this, who recently lost a loved one. May this song help us on our journey as well.

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So there are many different kinds of rites of passage, and there are many different kinds of songs of the sea to describe them. Likewise, the six of swords embodies all of these different meanings. I see no reason to look for more.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

For a Song: Talk to Me of Mendocino



Kate and Anna McGarrigle: Talk to Me of Mendocino

[purchase]

I had another song picked out for this feature this week. But then I got the news that Kate McGarrigle had died. There is no need for me to post a full-length tribute here; my friend and fellow Star Maker Boyhowdy has done an excellent job of that here. So instead, I would like to tell you a story.

I started Oliver di Place out of the belief that there is an amazing amount of great music that not enough people are getting to hear. And I have discovered that there is even more than I thought. I would say that this belief started to take hold of me in my high school years. I had a best friend, and neither of us had as much time or money as we would have liked. So, as we began to form our own musical tastes, we shared the job of building our music collections. So his collection had the Beatles, while mine had the Rolling Stones. He had Stephen Sondheim, while I had Joni Mitchell. And he got us started on Kate and Anna McGarrigle. I heard their first two albums this way, but I never owned them. I was floored by what I heard. This was my first encounter with the influence of French-Canadian folk music; it would be quite some time before I would hear this folk genre in its pure form. But it informed the McGarrigle’s sound. Here also were two wonderful singers who blended beautifully.

You can guess what happened next. After high school, my friend and I drifted apart. The music of the McGarrigles went with him. But I remembered it, and tried to keep an ear out for their work. Over the years, I would hear a song hear or a song there, and it was always as good as I remembered. Throughout what I heard of their career, the quality never wavered. But there were always other artists vying for my attention. So it comes down to this: Kate McGarrigle deserves to be honored here, but, to this day, I don’t own any of their albums. I have them on a distressingly long list of artists whose work I should have and don’t.

For this post, then, I have chosen the song Talk to Me of Mendocino. It comes from their first album, and is one of the first examples of Kate’s songwriting I ever heard.