see what you hear.com

Mirah: C’mon Miracle

            There’s an immediate difference to be found between Mirah’s last album, 2002’s “Advisory Committee,” and the opening notes of “C’mon Miracle.” “Nobody Has To Stay” begins by fusing together the heavy timbre of an upright bass with the high notes of a thinly plucked violin, working to contrast the crisp, bright qualities of Mirah’s voice with the subtle touches of darkened acoustics. This refined focus continues with “Jerusalem” – another arrangement that’s as light as the seagull’s caww in the song’s opening seconds – where a distinct presence from a Spanish guitar gives the song a feeling of just breezing through.

“Light,” on the other hand, is anything but that: a strange amalgamation of sounds, it doesn’t take long before the track begins feels like a pool of noise, saved only by the timely introduction of an intimate breakdown. Similarly, “Look Up” sounds a little too thick and distorted for its own good, but fortunately, sandwiched in between these two rougher numbers is the most enjoyable bossa twist of “Don’t Die In Me.” The hushed apologetic sentiments behind “We’re Both So Sorry,” meanwhile, is punctuated with what sounds like an iron lung, drawing in and out to create the impression of a one-way conversation (perhaps between a confessor [or two] and a comatose patient) before a pulsating electro beat sweeps in with an unexpected burst of life.

There’s an undeniable charm to “Dogs of B.A.,” a shade of gypsy folk that rolls in on the lines: “And the dogs of Buenos Aires, they will take you from sleep, between the fire crackers cackling, and the taxis in the street.” As chords saunter through with an upbeat swing, waiting for the inevitable line of an accordion and some spoken words of Spanish, a standout track has clearly announced itself.

By the time we reach “Struggle,” it becomes clear that there’s an artistic veracity that similar sounding female vocalists simply don’t have to call upon. The likes of Scout Niblett, for instance, has been known to experiment with formats and deliver sketches of songs as much as Mirah has – but here, the songstress comes good and delivers a work that holds together, raising the bar for the soundalikes in the process. Closing on additional highlight “Exactly Where We’re From,” Mirah wraps up an album of feather-light romantics with just the same note of eloquence she began on. Though “C’mon Miracle” may not set your world alight, there are some songs here soft enough to rest your head upon.

Artist / Group:
Mirah
Album:
C’mon Miracle
Label:
Arrivederci Baby
Released:
11th July 2005

Popularity: 1% [?]

           Far from sounding anything like label-mates Air, there’s a touch of electro-cabaret to Sebastien Tellier’s latest offering, “Politics.” More specifically, on more than a few occasions it manages to sound like a concept album designed with a German opera about the 80s in mind, consequently making it an unexpected and quite intriguing listen to say the least.

With grand, sweeping layers present from the outset, the feel to Tellier’s arrangements and the tonality of his melodies frequently sound conspicuously like that master of concept albums, Frank Zappa (as on “Bye Bye” and “Benny”). Perhaps somewhat inevitably, then, there’s an air of deliberate tackiness at hand on tracks such as “Wonderafrica” and “Mauer,” filling out the width of the album with a gluttonous quality.

Yet when the more conventional moments do arrive, they’re worth taking note of: the clapping, aahhh-ing snap of acoustics in “League Chicanos,” the funky resonance of quasi-instrumental “La Ritournelle” (which has “summer anthem” written all over it), and the meditative, drawing strings of “Slow Lynch,” may satisfy those curious enough to investigate the Frenchman’s latest eccentric endeavour.

However, as a whole, it remains to be seen whether “Politics” is an eye-brow raising exercise in diverse and unusual song-writing, or rather a tongue-in-cheek experiment in Euro-trash. With closing number “Zombi” sounding like the soundtrack to the flashing neon lights of some bizarre game show, it’s hard to imagine anyone giving this album repeated listening with a straight face (or a full measure of sanity).

Artist / Group:
Sebastien Tellier
Album:
Politics
Label:
Lucky Number
Released:
12th September 2005

Popularity: 1% [?]

            Song to song, Porcupine Tree have a way of moving from average nu-metal to bland sentimentality as if there were nothing to it, but it’s a line tread most unremarkably. Though “Deadwing” may not be the worst album of the year, it certainly makes for some fairly uninspired listening as, rather than make any form of advance from their previous works, instead their latest release sees them slip into a world of self-plagiarism.

The crux of the title track feeds off riffs that sound like latter-day Rage Against The Machine (and, similarly, sound like a band running out of ideas and unable to cover up their weaknesses), but the disastrous faux-aggression of the spoken word part and the extended track length are entirely unwarranted. With “Shallow” sounding like a continuation of the same song (only seemingly better shaped for radio airplay), you may, at this point, find yourself wondering whether you have what it takes to go on.

Softer outings such as “Lazarus,” “Arriving Somewhere (But Not Here),” and “Mellotron Scratch,” on the other had, never fail to meander frustratingly through wishy-washy territory. While it’s been made clear from an early stage here that the lyrical content isn’t going to be anything to write home about, one still hopes that Steven Wilson was intentionally writing with the ears of dull, angst-ridden teens in mind, rather than actually being so creatively limited.

The beginning of “Open Car” says it all: it’s a throwaway sound that’s been re-hashed by a countless number of middle-of-the-road nu-metal bands. Though this may be tolerable enough to some (or even endearing to die-hard followers of the genre), this smacks of not only cynicism, but a lack or artistic integrity, and for me, this is where the journey must end. A pale revision of “Lightbulb Sun,” “Deadwing” is an apt title if ever there was one: falling completely flat, it’s a tired sound that just won’t fly.

Artist / Group:
Porcupine Tree
Album:
Deadwing
Label:
Lava
Released:
26th April 2005

Popularity: 1% [?]

              There’s something very natural about Fionn Regan performing with his acoustic in amber light, a velvet curtain hanging picturesquely behind him. Always excellent, the criminally underexposed Irish singer-songwriter provided a satisfying warm up before Laura Veirs and the Tortured Souls eventually took the stage. Being a Tuesday evening, tables and chairs decked the floor, and as a consequence, the mood was one of a relaxed, midweek indulgence. The polar opposite to the hubbub of Saturday night it may well be, but sometimes this atmosphere can be nicer…particularly when the splendour of such hushed arrangements are propelled with this amount of natural imagery.

Fionn Regan

              For much of the evening, Veirs and her band enjoyed a crystal clear sound – and it’s just as well, because one can’t imagine the material from the new release, “Year of Meteors,” being performed without the presence of a group. After all, that fuller sound is what really made the album such a pleasant collection of songs. Pushing through these new pieces with a dainty confidence, Veirs clearly felt at ease at the foot of her European tour, frequently making conversation (or “announcements,” as she referred to them) between songs, even asking if the crowd could recommend any nice Irish castles to visit on their day off.

              At one point, Veirs stopped proceedings to produce a tiny jar of golden face-glitter which, after applying to the heads of the Tortured Souls, she passed around the audience on the strict instructions that we were all to partake in the moment by wearing the sparkles too. Between colourful renditions of new tracks such as “Fire Snakes,” “Rialto,” and “Through the Glow,” Veirs made space for cuts from 2004’s “Carbon Glacier,” most notably the charming touches of “Ether Sings” and “Rapture.”

              After (half-jokingly) warning that she was about to embark on a rip-roaring solo on one of her older, Bluesier numbers, Veirs said that, because the band felt in a “loose” frame of mind (although one wouldn’t have guessed as much from the cohesiveness of the gig), they would pander to the first two requests shouted out. It was here that producer Tucker Martine’s drums took the opportunity to leap to attention with some fluent brushwork before the bottom-rung harmonies of bass player Karl Blau (who, incidentally, opened the evening with a solo performance) resonated so lowly, it sounded like open-guitar strings reverberating down the octaves.

              Inspired by the content of their next song, “Spelunking,” Veirs and the Tortured Souls affixed headlamps to their heads and asked for every light to be turned out. With just four little blue lights dotting the field of vision, it was time for the sparkles on every cheek to glisten weakly in the glow – a lovely moment that was perfect for the soothing subtleties of not only the song in question, but the whole caboodle of starry imagery that adorned the evening. Switching instruments and readying himself for the warbles of “Galaxies,” Blau announced (by way of Veirs) that they were “about to kick ass,” and indeed they did, with what was easily the highlight of the show. Veirs’ grungy stabbings on the electric guitar found a way of to emphasize what a good tune it really is, as the band worked to stike an exclamation mark into the tail-end of the night.

Veirs and Co. in Spelunking Mode

              Though the venue did indeed become filled with attentive listeners, there was still an intimate, appreciative quietness floating in the air – so much so that it even had me feeling slightly guilty whenever it was time to take a picture (to be specific, the flash of my camera managed to intrude on the darkness during the “Spelunking” episode). The Tortured Souls made for an impressive all-round display, particularly Steve Moore’s keyboards which, for me, were the real winner of the evening. In all, it’s clear Laura Veirs’ has her act together, and her current live show has all the right ingredients to give all those attending the European dates something to write home about. There’s an honest-to-goodness care for the simple art of performing a handful of gentle songs there, the kind of personal touch that has t-shirts made from her basement on sale, the kind that saw Veirs going looking for the jar of sprinkles at the end of the show…

Popularity: 1% [?]

Review by Stephen Boylan

             It’s easy to imagine the Trinity Hall of downtown Toronto as the perfect venue for a lively Sunday morning gospel mass, the high ceilings allowing joy-filled arrangements to fill the air, the wood-panelling and seats providing just the right counter-balance of formality and solemnity. On Saturday the 10th of September, however, God had to make way for the wonders of Abraham Lincoln and North American fowl as Sufjan Stevens took to the pulpit.

              Stevens has undertaken an American and European tour in support of his latest magnum opus “Come On Feel The Illinoise!”, packed once again with maniacally long song titles and subjects ranging from serial killers to faith healing at the local Bible Study. While Stevens’s substantial musical talent is undeniable his live act, however, lags badly behind his studio work in terms of content and quality.

              Stevens emerged on stage alone at first, but was quickly accompanied by the Illinoisemakers Band, who came whooping and cheering up the centre-aisle in full cheerleading regalia in anticipation of the several routines that were to follow. As expected, most of the evening’s material came from the new album, and each of the band members seemed more than a very accomplished musician, their beautiful vocal harmonies certainly providing one of the highlights of the show.

              Unfortunately, Stevens made a fatal gaffe at the beginning of the evening by acknowledging that the tour had already received a number of bad reviews due to his failure to speak or sing loudly enough into the microphone. The trouble with this is, like the one mismatched pattern in an otherwise perfectly-wallpapered room, it becomes a focus of attention. Should he have, therefore, been avoiding the quieter, more contemplative tracks that he played and gone for his more expansive, ambitious songs instead? Well, he performed those too, but one of “Illinoise”’s standout tracks, “Chicago,” lost its charm when the glossy, full-bodied production was absent – on stage, it felt strangely flat. The songs that did stand up brilliantly were those that fell between the quiet and loud, such as “Casimir Pulaski Day” and “Redford,” taken from “Greetings from Michigan.”

              Perhaps the most frustrating aspect of the gig, however, was its length. Given the copious number of tracks that litter his albums, one might have reasonably expected a gig that would last longer than just over sixty minutes, with two encore tracks. Yet even this wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for the barely-audible song introductions and the cheerleading routines. Don’t get me wrong – the routines were an amusing novelty but, given the choice, I’d have gladly traded the costumes in for a better sound, and given up the routines for a few more songs. Perhaps when the show reaches Europe it will have been shaken out of its rigid American frame.

              At the climax, Stevens got a standing ovation, and indeed, I stood too…but it was out of recognition for his amazing studio work and pure talent. When the hardcore fans started another ovation at the end, people around me were already leaving. I’d hate to think that newcomers would judge Stevens on the basis of this concert alone, because as a musician and songwriter he deserves every respect.

Stephen Boylan

Popularity: 1% [?]