AWmusic

Photographs by Jennifer Picard. More photographs at Flickr.

It was a surprise to open the Georgia Straight and see a listing for Daniel Johnston at Venue. Venue is a “new” live music venue in Vancouver. Anti-climactically, all that really means is that The Plaza has given itself a new look and a new name, perhaps trying to wedge its way into the market once belonging to the recently closed Richard’s on Richards.

Why would Daniel Johnston, the subject of the intriguing 2006 documentary The Devil and Daniel Johnston, be on tour?

As it turns out, the forty-eight-year-old Johnston is releasing an album of new material and has embarked on a North American tour in support of that album, titled Is And Always Was, to be released in October. The artist and musician’s trademark DIY-sounding recordings have been met with much praise over the last twenty or so years, and Johnston is often hailed as one of America’s greatest songwriters.

Ford Pier, a trio of aging troubadours who would seem less out of place at a wedding, seemed on odd choice for an opener. A low-budget version of The Police or Dire Straits, the three-piece’s weak guitar riffs and exaggerated rock star kicks were almost embarrassing. “You don’t wanna know what I’m into,” sang Pier. It’s true. The crowd was not really all that interested.

Daniel Johnston’s appearance onstage was a blessing: track pants, a stain on his shirt, skate shoes and crazy hair.

“I love you all but I hate myself,” Daniel Johnson sang, causing a wave of sadness and pity to wash over the crowd, hushed by the sincerity of his songwriting. A lack of eye contact with his audience made for what felt like an exploitative performance. However, his songwriting shone again and again, and the honesty in his vocals and lyrics shattered any doubt that he was in this one hundred percent.

“I had a dream that this guy was sentenced to death because he wanted to commit suicide…and it was me,” Johnston said with a smirk, a segue into his next song: “The show must go on, it’s never really over.”

Launching into a new song on his tiny guitar, he played for about ten seconds and then stopped. “Let’s try another one,” he said with a smile and a chuckle, completely and endearingly awkward.

During “There is a Sense of Humour Way Beyond Friendship”, his hands shook violently, his whole body tremoring, bringing new meaning to the term “tortured artist”.

He was later joined by a guitarist, allowing him to concentrate fully on his vocals. “Don’t wanna be free of hope,” he sang during “Life in Vain”. Somehow, the majority of his catalogue would appear otherwise.

“Grievances” was excellent, with its honesty and his fists shaking at his sides. “I’ve come this far and I know that I can make it,” he intimated during “Silly Love”.

A major highlight was the Beatles cover “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away”. The crowd joined in on the chorus; the room was full of magic and electricity.

Innocence and sadness, honesty and self-expression, a need for connection: these are the themes in Johnston’s work. It is apparent as to why Kurt Cobain might have related to this man: the darkness, a lack of love, mental instability, sensitivity.

Joined by Ford Pier and an additional guitarist, Johnston followed a short break with a number of rockier favourites, including “Casper the Friendly Ghost”. On the band’s instrumentals he leaned on the microphone with both hands and closed his eyes, concentrating on feeling.

“There was a day when I was so lonely,” he sang.

And then he ran off the stage mid-song with his laminated music binder under his arm.

The crowd demanded more, so Johnston returned to the stage with the beautiful simplicity of “True Love Will Find You in the End”.

Perfectly imperfect.

MP3:
Daniel Johnston – Grievances
Daniel Johnston – Silly Love

More info:
Myspace / Website

Photographs by Jennifer Picard. More photographs at Flickr.

It was a warm night in Vancouver – much too warm for a leather jacket. But Murray Lightburn, lead singer of The Dears, was brave enough to endure the hot lights and sweat for fashion’s sake.

The evening got off to a strong start with the straight-forward rock of curly-haired Montrealers Black Diamond Bay and then Victoria’s Jets Overhead. Jets Overhead took the stage just after 9pm, beginning with a disappointingly uninteresting number. All about beefy basslines and guy-girl harmonies, they built up their set song by song, down-tempoed and shoegaze, debuting songs from new release, No Nations.

The Dears began their set in a more unusual way – with Murray Lightburn singing “Saviour” from the floor, in amongst the audience, escalating to the band’s group vocals on stage: “This time…whoaaaa.” Theirs was a noticeably stronger stage presence than that of the opening bands, perhaps the result of Lightburn’s tambourine-bashing (often against his chest) or Natalia Yanchak’s ethereal quality. The only let-down was that Yanchak had so few chances to convey her vocal talents, such as on “Crisis 1 & 2″.

Playing songs new (”Money Babies”, “Demons”, “Meltdown in A Major”) and old (the Morrissey-tinged “Lost in the Plot”, “22: The Death of All Romance”), the current line-up also includes Chris McCarron (guitar), Yann Geoffroy (drums), Laura Wills (keys/vocals), Jason Kent (guitar/vocals), and Rob Benvie (bass). Rarely straying from a familiar tempo (however well it works), The Dears remained high energy throughout their set, lighting a fire under the butts of a mostly apathetic crowd.

“It’s miraculous to find you all here tonight,” said Lightburn. “From the bottom of our hearts, like, we fuckin’ mean it.”

And mean it they did.

MP3:
The Dears – Crisis 1 & 2
The Dears – Lights Off

Buy at:
Insound / Amazon

More info:
Myspace / Website

My first exposure to Bend Sinister was a few years back at a party hosted by Patty C. It was quite the evening, and although my memory of their set is quite fuzzy, they sure have changed since then.

Comprised of Dan Moxon (vocals/keys/guitar), Joseph Blood (guitars), Henry Alcock White (guitar/vocals), Joel Meyers (bass) and Jason Dana (drums/percussion), Bend Sinister has come a long way from playing small clubs in Kelowna. On Stories of Brothers, Tales of Lovers, they are a band with a distinctly vintage feel, utilizing wall-of-sound production tactics and rubbed down with a bit of Supertramp and ELO.

The band reunited with talented producer Shawn Cole to create a dazzling collection of originals, but this time it’s a concept album. This was spurred by the old-fashioned idea that an album should be listened to in its entirety , with each song a building block, and a piece of a bigger story.

“The News” is delectable power pop – dramatic as Queen’s best work. Moxon begins bravely with a whistling solo. “I whistle…it has been one of my fortés since being a kid,” he says. “The song is about how, no matter what, you can’t help but be influenced by the past. I included lyrics from The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix and Led Zeppelin in each verse. It was trying to playfully honour influence of music past rather than be so bold as to claim that everything we do is totally original.”

“Brothers of Humankind” showcases strong drumming and its upbeat tempo is reminiscent of “The Ghost at Number One” from ’90s pop group Jellyfish. “This was kind of a comment about those of us who can be lazy, indifferent, and stand idle while other live life and achieve their goals,” said Moxon.

“CT” is like a Jewish folk song on a spinning carousel, while “Once Again” also comes off like an amusement park ride, with its arpeggios and galloping drums. The full sound swirls like a harpsichord.

On “Careless”, Moxon’s voice is melted butter on the verse and metallic toffee on the chorus, backed by strings and subtle instrumentation. “Because Because” is like a bleeding heart doused in minor chords and swaddled in harmony, the kind of song to listen to while looking out the window of a train; its coda is like a modern-day “I Want You“.

“Jimmy Brown”, with its “Benny and the Jets”-tinged piano riff, is a good time. It’s the kind of tune that could be mistaken for an ‘80s sitcom theme song. “You ain’t no Bill Gates,” sings Moxon, cozying up to a wailing guitar. Moxon explains, “This was a playful song about a character, Jimmy Brown, who is your straight-ahead ‘live all about work’, 9-to-5 character. He cannot understand why his co-worker would go out each night to party and dance…he rats the guy out to the boss and comes in with the voice of harsh reason: ‘No, good times aren’t enough!’” The album is full of character studies such as this one.

“Dr. Lee is the fictional man in the love-hate story that runs through the second half of the record – tales of lovers between himself and a woman, Julianna,” explains Moxon. “[He’s] a wealthy womanizer who realizes too late that if you don’t find love and treat everyone badly, you’ll end up alone in the end.” The catchy and danceable tune with that character’s name features a jazzy and intricate piano part and powered-up guitar. “It’s hard to say who is the best dancer, but I’m pretty sure I could give all the guys a run for their money,” says Moxon.

On “Give Into the Night”, the listener is treated to vocals by Adaline, who guest stars with choir teacher Dawn Pemberton throughout the album to add some curves to Bend Sinister’s rigid points and lines. “Demise” serves as the tale of Dr. Lee’s downfall, while the string-propelled “City Lights” (where Moxon sounds his most English, particularly when he sings, “dentists use their novacaine”) is his last lament.

When asked if the band’s time in the studio provided any amusing anecdotes, he made mention of late-night visits to Commercial Drive’s Belgian Fries. “We each go get a massive poutine…complete with the lamb sausage all mixed in! It’s a ritual, but then we end up feeling too full to want to do anything else.”

This album has the same effect: it tastes and feels good, but your senses may be overloaded, your ears left buzzing and your heart-rate elevated.

Bend Sinister plays the Dawson City Music Festival on July 17.

MP3:
Bend Sinister – Because Because
Bend Sinister – The News

Video:
Directed by Colin Minham

Buy at:
Distort Digital

More info:
Myspace

Photograph by Valerio Berdini

Finding a parking spot on a rainy night in downtown Vancouver is about as fun as a root canal. And so is arriving at the venue for a show you’re reviewing exactly two minutes before the act goes on and then finding out your name isn’t on the list.

It would seem luck wasn’t on our side that evening. That was until Patrick Watson began singing.

Although the first two songs of his set were missed (one of them “Fireweed”) and gaining an eyeline of the band over the sea of standing bodies was a test of patience, it was well worth the trouble. Mr. Watson was in especially fine form last Wednesday night.

Richard’s on Richards, one of the best venues for live music in Vancouver, is dying a slow death. The washrooms are in disrepair and no wonder: it’s only a matter of time before the building is demolished and replaced by yet another condo development. An intimate room, its structure allows for good views from almost any location.

There was the obligatory commentary on Vancouver’s rain. “I think you guys can deal with the rain,” said Watson, comparing it to the snow and “brown river” of Montreal. Singing and playing piano from the corner of the stage, Watson was backed by the remarkable Simon Angell (guitar/banjo/mandolin), Robbie Kuster (drums/percussion), and Mishka Stein (bass).

“Beijing”, a beautiful tangle of percussion and piano, allowed Watson’s voice to soar to the rafters, unrestrained, while “Wooden Arms”, with its evocative mandolin part, was like a sleepwalk stumble through the forest. Watson’s compositions are a showcase for his incredible (and M. Ward-like) voice, at times manipulated by megaphones and effects, mechanical and electric, filling empty space with the sounds of vintage cinema and broken AM radios.

Whether adding unexpected touches such as kazoo buzzing, or idiosyncratic stage moves and head shaking, Watson was able to awe his audience, visibly touched by the band’s smooth transitions from symphonic euphoria to cabaret, thunderous and rambunctious to quiet and transcendent. “Big Bird in a Small Cage”, one of the finest on Wooden Arms and allegedly written with Dolly Parton in mind, was brilliantly done, but lacked the dazzling backing vocals of Katie Moore. “Where the Wild Things Are”, written for Spike Jonze’s adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s children’s story, was a lot of fun, as was “Machinery of the Heavens”, introed by the crowd’s males grunting and its females “ahh-ing” to produce a surprisingly exquisite reverberation.

During their encore, Watson shuffled through the crowd, wearing a backpack sprouting five megaphones that his vocal was fed through. The audience clapped along gently to “Traveling Salesman” (“selling the distance between us and the sky”) and sang along to “The Storm” (“eyes wide open, shutters closed”). Watson and his merry men sauntered back onstage to finish the song, with Watson relaxing at the rear of the stage drinking a beer while the band jammed out.

In the calm afterwards, left alone at the piano, Watson gave a heart-wrenching performance of “The Great Escape”, the crowd singing quietly on the “doo doo doo” part.

Maybe luck was on our side after all.

MP3:
Patrick Watson – Big Bird in a Small Cage
Patrick Watson – Where the Wild Things Are

Buy at:
Patrick Watson Shop / Amazon

More info:
Myspace / Website

Photographs by Jennifer Picard – View more at Flickr

Mother Mother wowed a sold-out crowd in their hometown of Vancouver on Saturday night. The excellent O My Heart was released in the fall of last year, avoiding the sophomore album curse and receiving complimentary reviews left and right. Founding vocalist Debra-Jean Creelman left to pursue other musical projects in December, but based on the quality of Saturday’s performance, the band has suffered very little. Jasmin Parkin (vocals/keys) joined the band earlier this year and according to Ryan Guldemond (vocals/guitar), her contribution to the group has so far been amazing.

The sprawling crowd was warmed up by local talent – Gang Violence’s stylish dance pop and the vanilla Said the Whale (redeemed by the hickory voice of guest Hannah Georgas). After being instructed by management to meet at coat-check fifteen minutes prior to Mother Mother’s set, only to be informed that a press pit was not, in fact, an option, the media’s photographers were left with the difficult task of pushing through a sea of unrelenting fans to gain a sightline to the band.

Mother Mother got off to a strong start: “Neighbour” and “Body of Years” were both foot stomping numbers, showcasing their trademark girl-boy harmonies, a quintessential Vancouver sound. “Ohhh…can’t stop tripping on these,” they sang, Ryan Guldemond bathed in spotlight. His guitar solo prompted frantic cheers and whistles from the crowd, all bent-knee-dancing, surrounded by a cloud of smoke and an all-too-familiar scent.

“Arms Tonite” coaxed the crowd into full-on leaping and drunken hand-waving. Breathing new energy into each of Guldemond’s compositions, the band sounded as tight as they do on the Howard Redekopp-produced O My Heart. Buoyed by Ali Siadat’s kick drum and organ, this song elicited an especially positive response. “Body” evoked further movement and excitement, and afterwards Ryan Guldemond had no trouble expressing his gratitude: “Thanks for joining us, Vancouver! Thank you so much!”

Next up was “Burning Pile”, with Molly Guldemond (vocals/synth) and Parkin static at their keyboards, Ryan Guldemond kinetic and lit from behind. “All lit up and I start to smile,” he crooned.

“This is a new song of ours. Hope you enjoy it,” he said, launching into an extraordinarily percussive number boosted by an eerie organ part. The room was slow to respond to the Beastie Boys-inspired rapping, accompanied by video screens displaying dancing women in bikinis and heart graphics. “Wrecking Ball” brought them back on track, stacked with muscular harmonies and elastic snare.

Saxophone solos (from bassist Jeremy Page) and fist pumping followed, and on “Ghosting”, with its lilting acoustic introduction, the once-superior harmonies began to grate. “Heart Heavy” induced overhead clapping and more Eighties’ sax. Parkin got her chance to shine during “Try To Change” with a soulful solo vocal serving as further verification of her talent. Maybe the band was losing steam, or maybe something went awry at the sound board, but the rhythm section drowned the vocals on “Wisdom”, with its frenzied ending and general messiness.

The terrifically infectious “Hayloft” made their set. Fans climbed onto each other’s shoulders – one guy mid-crowd waved his hat in the air and bucked about as though he was at a rodeo. Bodies moved like a million dribbling basketballs during “O My Heart”, too loud and not nearly as tight as earlier in their set. Their encore, however, was redeeming, solidifying Mother Mother’s dynamic talent and their determination to entertain and animate an audience.

Mother Mother visits Winnipeg on May 22 and plays Blues Fest in Ottawa on July 12.

MP3:
Mother Mother – Hayloft
Mother Mother – O My Heart

Buy at:
Mother Mother Shop / CD Universe

More info:
Myspace / Website

Photographs by Jennifer Picard

Anyone with a sweet tooth would have loved Lenka’s saccharine performance at the Media Club in Vancouver last night. Cavity-inducing and incredibly charming, Lenka and her band delivered bubblegum pop, radiant with positivity and authenticity. The stage’s décor was a collection of cardboard and wood anime-influenced toadstools and colourful trinkets, and the room was scattered with youthful and enthusiastic fans.

A former teen actress (who studied with Cate Blanchett) and member of band Decoder Ring in her native Australia, Lenka Kripac has been based in Los Angeles since 2007, releasing her debut solo effort in the fall of 2008. Her image is sugary sweet: candy colours, bird-heavy illustrations and Miranda July art-school quirkiness. In the last six months, her songs have been featured in commercials for Telus and Old Navy, and on shows like Grey’s Anatomy and Ugly Betty.

Backed by solid players John Graney (guitar, keys, vocals), Danny Levin (horns, keys), Erik Kertes (bass, glockenspiel), and Stella Mozgawa (drums), Lenka arrived on stage just after 10:30pm. The band launched into “Trouble is a Friend”, Lenka’s yellow bird earrings swinging to and fro. With one eyebrow raised, she flashed her dimples and hammed it up.

“You’re gorgeous,” cried a fan. “We love the Aussies!”

Aussie or not, it was hard not to be magnetized by her undeniable stage presence, a sharp contrast to Kellarissa’s deficient charisma.

Gum-chewing drummer Mozgawa led the group into “Knock Knock” as Lenka shook her tambourine and shimmied around the stage. For “Skipalong”, she debuted a mini-keyboard, hung around her neck and decorated with one red felt heart. Throughout her performance, Lenka’s sense of humour imbued each of her songs, a sequence of progressively exaggerated and campy selections. Despite the over-the-top enthusiasm, Lenka is a genuine and heartfelt performer with a fresh innocence which flouts her age and the jaded business of rock ‘n’ roll. Her band was not overshadowed by her exuberance: anchoring bass lines, energetic drumming, gorgeous harmonies and crisp horns coloured her endearing vocals and lyrics.

“It’s all up to you / use what’s been given to you,” Lenka sang during “Live Like You’re Dying”, accompanied by her female fans, mouthing the words with eyes closed. It was one of those “singing-into-hairbrushes-romantic-comedy-scene”-type crowds, ok?

Radiowaves from WWII (which, if you get the frequency right, can still be heard in the air today) accompanied Lenka’s a capella version of “Like A Song”, haunting and further proof of her chops. During “The Show”, she requested the audience’s participation, the entire crowd singing “I want my money back!” at the top of their lungs. “You guys are a wonderful drunken choir,” she commented at the end. She had a false start on the bluesy (and new) “Pull Me Apart”. After fumbling on the keys, she said, “Ok, focus. Ready? Am I ready?” Several times throughout the show, she had to ask audience members stage right to quieten down, surprisingly distracted was she by drunken antics. After this point in the set, the show became somewhat of a dance party, complete with overhead clapping and head bobbing.

“I really like Vancouver,” she remarked, explaining that it was making her homesick for Sydney.

The band then launched into “We Will Not Grow Old”, a song inspired by high school ideas about growing up and wanting to remain child-like forever. Called back for an encore, the band performed “Wrote Me Out”, co-written with AFI’s Hunter Burgan and a track that wasn’t included on her album.

Audience participation? Check!
Singalongs? Check!
Overhead clapping? Check!
Kazoos? Check!
Cuteness overload? Check!

All the makings of a great pop show.

MP3:
Lenka – The Show
Lenka – Don’t Let Me Fall

Buy at:
Amazon / CD Universe

More info:
Myspace / Website

I was first introduced to David Stith last year with the track “Be My Baby” on Asthmatic Kitty’s compilation, Works in Progress.

He made a good impression.

To be honest, I was hesitant to listen to his full-length debut, if only because I might be disappointed if it didn’t live up to expectations. Thankfully, that hasn’t been the case.

Heavy Ghost is the orchestral result of a year of writing, arranging and recording – Stith reawakened his love of music and song-crafting after several years of dabbling in the visual arts and producing My Brightest Diamond. It’s a strong first outing, and the multi-talented Stith, who plays the bulk of instruments found here, is proving to be very hands-on – in addition to producing the album, he created its artwork.

This is a record that could sail over many a head. Stith’s songs are incredibly layered and dense. They pulse with imagination and movement: an organized chaos of sweeping, dizzying melodies and percussion, paired with a vocal that is angelic yet pained. These are songs at once sacred and secular, ambiguous and definite, reticent and fervent, water and fire.

The piano serves as a backbone for much of Stith’s work and echo-filled choral arrangements are sprinkled throughout. Stith leans heavily on classical tradition in the piano march of “Isaac’s Song” and experiments vocally on “Spirit Parade”, an ecstatic and electronic composition that could be found on Bjork’s cutting room floor. The tribal and percussive “Creekmouth” is brilliantly visceral, Stith’s voice breathy: “Hushhhhh,” he sings over glockenspiel and driving kick drum. So often on this record , particularly in this track, the listener is not distracted by a lyric – instead the vocals are experienced as another instrument, as pure sound. Likewise, on “Pigs” a string section buoys the vocal as Stith sings without enunciating, the focus clearly on tone. The repetitive waltz tiptoes along without much variation, yet it manages to communicate such a wide range of emotions in so few minutes. In the same way, “Braid of Voices”, with its three piano chords in 4/4 time and high-register trills , is another successful study in repetition.

“Thanksgiving Moon” is swept along by acoustic guitar, the sound of a sailboat in a storm. Stith’s tremoring tenor bobs and weaves over dynamics and complex rhythms, his vocal often a falsetto akin to Bon Iver’s. Horns are layered over a choir, orchestral and mystical. “Wig” is well-titled: Stith’s vocal hidden like a head in a wig. Whirling with the hum of organ and strings, it feels foreign and muffled –like all of the experimental parts of Radiohead without the rock sensibility. “BMB” (AKA “Be My Baby”) is faster-paced than the track included on Works in Progress and much more produced. “Slick licorice road” is still a gorgeous line delivered beautifully. Embellished with oboe and stringed instruments, this version is more experimental and best listened to with closed eyes. The piano’s last notes die in your ears with the click track.

The depth and range shown in “Fire of Birds”, a song recounting a burning by fireworks, fixing a water collection system in the middle of the night, and the biblical story of Isaac, is proof of Stith’s talent behind the board. Thumping, intense and fused with feeling, the song flows from buzzing bees to syncopated hand claps and sighs. “I couldn’t charm my way back to you,” Stith confesses.

The stunning “Morning Glory Cloud” features raised voices, choral and ghostly. “Did you call, did you call my name? I have been hiding,” he sings, accompanied by hand claps and crystalline guitar. His voice soars and dips over the simple rhythms as he ruminates on rare rolling cloud formations.

Stith’s music is filmic, evoking moving pictures: panning landscapes, animating corpses, the wind through barren tree branches. Heavy Ghost is a mess of heartache, brave questioning and the testing of limitations.

In other words, it makes a good impression.

MP3:
DM Stith – Morning Glory Cloud
DM Stith – BMB

Buy at:
Asthmatic Kitty / Amazon

More info:
Myspace / Website / Asthmatic Kitty

There is something uniquely seductive about retreating to the country with a guitar, ample helpings of sadness, and an active imagination: the artist removed from society, on the outside looking in. Fraser Teeple has done just that on his debut album, with the poetic yet familiar narrative of a rural Canadian lifestyle. Growing up in agricultural Ontario, Fraser spent summers cutting down trees and winters studying English Lit in the city, details that help to explain the introverted quality of his songs.

Fraser has spent the last few years honing his craft at pubs, bars and cafes all over France, England, Switzerland and Eastern Canada, and it shows. The songs on House on a Hill are well-worn and as comfortable as a pair of scuffed-up cowboy boots.

With a title and sound which bring to mind Elliott Smith’s From A Basement on the Hill , Fraser’s full-length debut is a collection of originals recorded at The Music Room last autumn with Brad Marsh (drums) and Adam Cake (bass). House on a Hill sounds like “3 a.m. in small-town Ontario”, like an insomniac’s lullaby or the result of self-induced solitude.

“He was charming enough,” Fraser sings knowingly on the undulating “Dusklight”, warmed by the hum of accordion and beautiful acoustic guitar. His voice is simultaneously vibrant as a sober Ryan Adams and as rich and haunting as a resurrected Jeff Buckley.

A doubled vocal and harmonica on “Fire Elegy” make for straightforward coffee shop music (think Jack Johnson), and the lyrics tend to be predictable, even for this genre. “Man Playing the Guitar in the Subway”, with its slow and tentative beginning, doesn’t blaze any new trails, and sounds like it was recorded in your bathroom.

However, the guitar accompaniment in “A Story” could easily be mistaken for an Iron and Wine composition, with its lilting cadence, mournful harmonica and Christian compass. “His heart burns cold, bitter flames for her,” he sings over eerie piano measures.

“Love Song” is a genuinely pretty number composed for his wife, boosted by saloon-era piano subtleties and a cracking-with-feeling vocal. The simplicity of the arrangement in this song, as well as “Tonight”, are generous showcases of Fraser’s instruments (voice, piano and guitar), with uncomplicated lyrics and melodies.

The truth is, as lovely as his voice sounds with those basic arrangements, Fraser’s songwriting shines when he gets loud. The bigger sound and quicker tempo of “Rules”, with lyrics touching on forgiveness and doing the right thing, has him “stumbling on words” accompanied by tambourine and a Roy Orbison-style chorus. “Let You Down”, another up-tempo number, has Fraser promising his audience he “won’t let you down tonight”, his voice rising and falling over a country bassline. “Even suburbia is breaking down our fences,” he wails.

The bluesy “Lead Me” is by far the sturdiest track on the record, shuffling along like a slow-moving train bound for North Carolina. On this boot-stomping groove, coloured by dirty harmonica and memorable lyrics, Fraser sings about laying down “in the arms of the sea”. For this seemingly die-hard minimalist, a back-up band may be the best investment he ever makes.

Fraser plays Toronto on Thursday, April 23 at C’est What (with Josh Gabriel and the Rough Sea) and Hamilton on Friday, April 24 at The Freeway Coffee House.

MP3:
Fraser – Dusklight
Fraser – Lead Me

Video:
Fraser playing live at the London Music Club in 2007.

Buy at:
CD Baby

More info:
Myspace

Fork in the Road is Neil Young’s timely commentary on the current state of America. Undoubtedly rushed to ensure impact and relevance, Young’s work on the ten-song release feels more honest, more accessible, and definitely more fun than anything else he’s recorded in the last few years.

Who can deny America’s love affair with the open road? You know, Route 66, all that jazz? It’s a crucial thread in the fabric of the American dream, representative of an independent and pioneering spirit. Young both romanticizes and criticizes America’s love affair with the automobile, understanding that we “can never take our eyes off the road”, but that something has to change.

And perhaps that’s one reason why Young’s music remains so relevant after all these years, and why he is cited as an influence by so many of today’s rock ‘n’ rolling musicians. He still has something to say. He believes in change, and he’s still critiquing society – something the greatest of artists do.

If you’re one who favours quiet, folksy Neil, try not to be disappointed. This is loud Neil in all his glory. From the dirty guitar riff on “Hit the Road” to the balls of “Get Behind the Wheel”, Young plays and sings with an energy and passion that defy his sixty-three years. “When Worlds Collide” is a formidable jam: groovy rhythms poised against a lyrical backdrop of truth and lies. On “Fuel Line”, Young sings over fuzzy electric about “the awesome power of electricity / stored for you in a giant battery”, referencing the transformation of his 1959 Lincoln Continental from gas-guzzling boat into a more ecologically-friendly Lincvolt. “Fill ‘er up!” he calls out over a very danceable riff.

He slows things down with “Off the Road” and “Light A Candle”. On the latter, his voice sounds delicate, but demonstrates conviction: “Instead of cursing the darkness, light a candle for where we’re going / There’s something ahead worth looking for”. It’s a simple arrangement – at first just Young and his guitar – embellished with slide and bass, awash in country flavour. The song urges us to carry on, making a difference so that others have an example to follow, shining so that others are not left in the dark. “It’s a chance to give new meaning to everything we make,” he sighs.

“Just Singing a Song” has lyrics that challenge the messages Young and his contemporaries championed in the 60s: “Just singing a song won’t change the world”, he wails mournfully. “You can sing about change while you’re making your own.” It’s classic rock fueled by a choir, reverb and echo, scribbled guitar and plenty of cymbal.

“Cough Up the Bucks” takes a page from Beck’s Loser era with its simple, meditative and repetitive lyrics – catchy as all get out. When he asks, “Where did all the money go? Where did all the cash flow?”, he’s stealing words from the lips of the masses in this climate of financial instability.

The title track comes on strong: shades of blue, fast and gritty guitar, all powered up: “I got hope,” he sings, “I’m not done, not giving up”. He’s has and he’s not and he won’t.

Watch for Neil Young’s Archives, the most comprehensive collection of his work, essentially Young’s life in a box – which is scheduled for release on June 2, 2009.

MP3:
Neil Young – Cough Up The Bucks
Neil Young – Light A Candle

Buy at:
Amazon

More info:
Myspace / Website

Photo by Jennifer Picard

Just last month, Vancouver-based singer-songwriter Jody Glenham released her sophomore album, Focus Pull, to a crowded release party at The Biltmore.

The majority of the songs captured on Focus Pull were written by Glenham in 2008 and recorded at The Hive by ubiquitous producer and musician Jesse Gander (credits include The WPP, The Doers, Blood Meridian, Ghost House and Pride Tiger). “I met Jesse over a pitcher of beer at The Main one night post-show. We hit it off as keyboardists over gear and music,” says Glenham. At the time, she was unaware of Gander’s ties with The Hive, but knew of the studio’s work with singer-songwriter Veda Hille. Typically The Hive records bands with a more raw or punk-influenced sound, but Glenham was able to convince Gander to take on her project. “Working with Jesse was fantastic and – more importantly – incredibly easy.”

The album is as much a testament to Glenham’s compelling songsmithing as it is to the talent of her backing band: Al Boyle on drums (Hard Feelings, The WPP, Ghost House, Plus Perfect), Mikey Manville on acoustic guitar, Louise Burns on bass (Lillix, The Luna Riot), and Jon Lovell on electric guitar. Gander and Glenham first recorded her piano parts, then building the accompaniment from the ground up, beginning with drums. Glenham credits Boyle with much of the song-shaping: “It’s very easy for a singer-songwriter album to have every song sound the same and I think Al actually took the time to figure out complementary things and how to add texture to it instead of straight cross beats.”

The result is a collection of ten well-crafted tunes, with Glenham’s voice and piano the focus. Her vocals flit from the vulnerability of Aimee Mann to the snarl of Grace Slick and back, soaked in the wit of Suzanne Vega and playfulness of Linda Ronstadt.

Much like on her previous release, Brave New World, it’s easy to hear the influence of Jon Brion and his idiosyncratic production values, particularly on songs like “Coffee Soaked” and “Chosen One”.

“Lime” feels like a Joni Mitchell outtake in its simplicity, laying bare Glenham’s vocal and bluesy chord progressions. “How much lemonade can you drink before you want lime / before you want something different,” she sings, leaving the listener longing for a subtle string arrangement or orchestration – something different.

Glenham walks the middle of the road with “Slip Away”, slipping into her lower range too often, and on “Pushin’ Gold” and “Bittersweet Keepsake”, she flirts dangerously with adult contemporary. The piano needs to take a back seat at times.

Luckily, there are songs where the piano is front and centre and it shines, such as the lighthearted “Buttons”. Reminiscent in theme to the White Stripes’ “The Hardest Button to Button”, it is the best-produced track on the album, with charming embellishments, capricious drumming and layered construction. “In Other Words” owes its confidence to Manville’s driving acoustic and Boyle’s creative but understated rhythms about two-thirds of the way through.

“’One Shot’ was written while I was seeing a photographer,” says Glenham, “so the references came out of conversations with him.” With a quirky piano melody that echoes the song’s subject matter (having only one chance to get things right), and harpsichord-inspired flourishes, her vocal soars in the higher ranges.

“Whisky (So Cold)” is another strong endeavour, with a piano part Spoon might covet and Glenham’s voice “distilled in heartache”, glowing with soulfulness. Here, everything feels bigger, the acoustic sparkles, and you can hear the band having a good time in every note. “You don’t love me anymore,” wails Glenham, revealing her potential to front a classic rock band.

Where it might be the tendency for singer-keyboardists to warm the bench, it seems as if Glenham has welcomed challenges and jumped gladly towards the new sounds and fresh ideas offered by Gander and her bandmates, smiles playing on their lips all the while.

Video:
“One Shot”, directed by Bienvenido Cruz and filmed at Grace Gallery

MP3:
Jody Glenham – Buttons
Jody Glenham – Whisky (So Cold)

Buy at:
CD Baby

More info:
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