Category: Releases

Today (20^th April) the Cooper & Hodge think tank releases a further EP of collaboration – Artefact. Four tracks of Tom Hodge’s piano compositions, presented on a mixed bed of Cooper’s production, follow the duo’s previous Fragments of Self partnership on Fields Records.

For a Birmingham Review of Tom Hodge’s recent release with Franz Kirmann, The Unified Field Reconstructed, click here.

Opening with ‘Remnants’, an accessible 3 ¾ minute foray into “the power of treasured objects and sounds to evoke involuntary emotional response,” Cooper creates a subtle backdrop of thin steel rain for Hodge’s “robust” melody to stride trough – eventually falling into its own happy rhythm, with frenetic trills to lead us out.

Then the dark strings of ‘Teotihuacan Pt2’ bring us into a room of lost shadows, wet candle flicker and rain – for the second composition based on Max Cooper’s field research of the titular Mexican pyramids (you can take the boy out of science, but…). Based around binaural recordings of a storm within Teotihuacan city, Artefact’s second track pitches a balance between mournful and hopeful; the echoes of Hodge’s simple ivory sitting almost omnipotent, as atmosphere and keys exchange prominence across 4 ½ beautiful, subtle minutes.

“The culture that created the pyramids has mainly been destroyed and its knowledge lost, replaced with a rebuilt, but still beautiful, tourist trap,” says Cooper – following his research trip to the Aztec’s ‘birthplace of the Gods’. “It’s a mix of loss and sadness and beauty with an edge of modern misuse.”

Then the monster. ‘Resonant Expanse’ opens with spiraling static and flux, an ethereal space echo, before a distorted Doppler effect gives way to a rise of simple rhythm – coming in strong, then stronger. A background of glitch weaves through the brooding foreground, coming together about midway, before the constant ebb and flow of warped sound finish our nine minute adventure. The first time I listened to ‘Resonant Expanse’ I was reading about supernovas, which seemed oddly appropriate.

And to finish, ‘Teotihuacan Pt1’ – the precursor to Artefact’s second track, which has been available as an EP teaser (free download) on Max Cooper’s website. A simple right-hand-left-hand from Hodge sets up another restrained blend of storm sounds and sprinkled glitch from Cooper – much akin to Pt2.

An evocative goodbye, creeping in to the end of Artefact like something precious and forgotten. And after the prominence of its predecessor, which carries the same self harm and excitement of centrifugal force, it’s a welcome swan song to an extremely successful EP and latest proffering from this enduring partnership.

Artefact EP, by Tom Hodge & Max Cooper, is out from today/20^th April on Fields Records. For more info & online purchases, visit http://ldnflds.tumblr.com/

For more on Max Cooper, visit http://maxcooper.net/

For more on Tom Hodge, visit http://www.tomhodge.com/

Words by Ed King, pics by Claire Belhassine & Simon Bierwald – courtesy of Denovali Records

If taken literally, the adage ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ would put the remix community out of business. Or at least some of them. But throwing your debut album out to the wolves on your own label is an arguably safer approach.

Piano Interrupted, aka Franz Kirmann and Tom Hodge, released The Unified Field in October 2013 through Denovali Records. A year and half later, The Unified Field Reconstructed is released – a reworking of seven out of the ten original tracks by some of their label mates. Now you can throw a stone at Denovali’s roster and hit someone worth attention; and with the source material coming from ‘a musical entity in continuous reinvention’ The Unified Field Reconstructed looks genuinely exciting.

And at points it certainly pays off, such as the perky, plucky, jangly Jazz remix of the album’s opening track – ‘Cross Hands’. The piano led original gets coated in a creative flourish from The Hidden Orchestra, that whilst honouring soundbytes and staccato from the first born also manages to make the Reconstructed an exuberantly funky affair.

Likewise, the uplifting keys that lead us through ‘Darkly Shining’ are replaced by a brooding movement of sound once John Lemke sinks his teeth in – transforming the delicately angelic original into a dangerous interloper. It reminds me of the fear I used to keep under the bed as a child; spectacular stuff.

But then there are moments where, perhaps, just maybe, things should have been left as they were. Which, you could argue, defeats the point of having remixes at all? But when your latest album is a reworking of your previous, you’re going to invite a more judgmental comparison.

Second Moon of Winter bring their haunting soprano to ‘Camera Obscura’, which sits beautifully on the waves of glitch and scratch, but we lose any of the ivory that made such a compelling original. Whilst Saffronkeria spends over a minute at the start of ‘Lost Coda’ going nowhere, and another seven and a half bringing not much more than an over itchy blanket to the picnic. And some have been sidestepped altogether, including (oddly) the title track ‘The Unified Field’ and one of the original highlights, ‘Path of Most Resistance’.

So avoiding purple prose; some swings, some misses, some hits. But I applaud the endeavour, and the outcome is definitely worth uploading to anything with earphones and walking round the park a few times.

There’s some significant talent at Denovali, with this and other recent releases (Bersarin Quartet, Poppy Ackroyd) showing the wealth of possibility coming out of the Bochum based imprint.

Tom Hodge and Franz Kirmann are both avant garde (in a good way) and exceptional at what they do, this is clear; The Unified Field was a strong debut that left a keen desire for more. I’m just not sure the reconstructed offering satisfies that.

So my advice, when holding a copy of The Unified Field in one hand and The Unified Field Reconstructed in the other, is just by both. Then pre-order album four which will be with us ‘later this year’.

The Unified Field Reconstructed by Piano Interrupted was released on 27^th March through Denovali Records. For online purchase points, for this and other releases, visit http://denovali.com/mp3shop/

For more on Piano Interrupted, visit https://soundcloud.com/pianointerrupted

For more from Denovali, visit http://denovali.com/

Words by Ceri Black, pics courtesy of Atlantic Records

Death Cab for Cutie’s 8^th album Kintsugi is a break up record, there is no doubt about that.

It’s the band’s first album release since the departure of original member Chris Walla and marks frontman Ben Gibbard’s high profile divorce. The album title itself describes the Japanese art of fixing ceramics back together with precious metal; finding beauty in the broken.

DCfC have never been a band to shy away from a certain amount of sensitivity and melancholy but the highly personal feel to Gibbard’s song writing has propelled this album into being something truly beautiful.

Lyrics such as “My love why do you run?” in ‘Hold No Guns’ or “How could something so fair be so cruel?” in ‘Black Sun’ are straight from the heart and only confirm the sadness this whole album appears to be based upon.

Instrumentally, Kintsugi echoes Gibbard’s project band The Postal Service. There is a strong use of rhythmic synth and fantastical guitar riffs that force listeners to realise that DCfC are comfortable and strong in a sound that has now become their signature.  ‘No Room in Frame’, for example, is a song that would be happy on any DCfC album.

There’s always a fear that a band so established could start slipping toward creating stadium filling, mass pleasing trash but Kintsugi proves that DCfC are on no such road.

In their 8th studio album, Death Cab for Cutie have a produced a sincere and emotive record that shows us all that being a grown up can sometimes get tough.

‘Little Wanderer’ – from Kintsugi, by Death Cab for Cutie

Kintsugi, Death Cab for Cutie’s 8^th studio album, is out today – 30^th March on Atlantic Records. For more on Death Cab for Cutie, including online purchase points, visit http://deathcabforcutie.com/

 For more from Atlantic Records, visit http://www.atlanticrecords.com/

 For more from Atlantic Records UK, visit http://atlanticrecords.co.uk/

Words by Ed King / Gig pic by Paul Reynolds

It’s here. Today, March 23^rd, The Staves release their ‘difficult second album’. Often the make or break of an artist, this all important follow up can also be the end of a beginning.

But after significant touring, a growing global audience, stories of cabin fever in Wisconsin, and the odd sonnet to pan Atlantic enamel envy, If I Was brings twelve more Stavely-Taylor tracks out into the world. Seconds out; sound the bell for round two.

It started with ‘Blood I Bled’ – the album’s opening track, which got a generous EP outing back in October last year. Big, brooding drums behind a poignant vocal lead; it was everything good about the Watford born sisters, but with a visceral edge and powerful melody. And whilst I still don’t understand the accompanying video (I can be overly defensive about India) watching it come off stage was genuinely exciting.

It also set a tone, with ‘Steady’ – the second listed album track – reiterating the never distant maturity of The Staves’ compositions. But the success that supported their debut album, Dead & Born & Grown, could have been a blessing or a curse, with a seemingly endless tour schedule making another LP appear to be a scheduling challenge if nothing else.

Talks of Justin Vernon behind the mixing desk grew crystal ball commentary, whilst a smattering of live shows brought some showcase to the speculation. But all leaving a quietly questioning audience asking what, and indeed when, would this sophomore sound become?

And now it’s here, If I Was is quite a spectacular achievement; the excitement from hearing their material performed live last autumn has travelled seamlessly across the studio production.

The album’s opener, ‘Blood I Bled’, is a remarkable first song – adopting an atmosphere of thunderclouds and protective strength that underpins the next eleven. But the shape of If I Was is not so obvious (albeit with the Vernon flourish quite prominent in parts) and whilst the words ‘impending’ and ‘sonorous’ could filter this review, it feels there is something much deeper at work than simply appropriated bass drums.

Tracks such as ‘No Me. No You. No More’ and ‘Don’t You Call Me Anymore’ hark back to the days of watching the sun set over December forests, whilst ‘Let Me Down’ and ‘Damn It All’ build testaments to punchy rock riffs and the Spector approach to guitar.

The vocals still lead but acoustic is not always in charge, and even the signature close part harmonies have been shifted and layered – moving away from the sisters on a stool a cappela that started this ball rolling in public. If I Was shows real evolution from this army of three, and the deft avoidance of a trap I suspect they were always too smart (or stubborn) to fall into.

There are some weaknesses; as with any experimentation your need the control and the variable. And whilst If I Was shows encouraging times ahead for The Staves, having excelled an already impressive debut, the claws of collaborations sometimes dig a little deep. Although when it comes to the use of keys, I retract this immediately. Plus at the end of the album any concerns are sedated with perhaps two of the most beautiful goodbyes to ever kiss off an LP.

I once wrote The Staves off with a quip, a hook I’ll be taking myself off straight after this sentence, but If I Was is incontestable in its promise. These are musicians, solid songwriters, in ascent, with a good label and industry support behind them. And so far it’s working well.

They’ve nailed album one, they’ve stamped their footsteps in the snow and cried out proud screams with album two – whatever comes next from the Staverley-Taylors should be taken seriously indeed. With If I Was The Staves have shown not only can the survive this game but that they’ll fight as contenders.

If I Was is out today, March 23^rd, on Atlantic Records. For more on The Staves, visit http://www.thestaves.com/

Words by Ed King- follow him @EdKing2210 / Pic by Charles Waldorf, images courtesy of Righteous Babe Records

Ani DiFranco’s portfolio is a little like Glastonbury or Burning Man, depending on which side of the pond you want your metaphor. There’s that seminal year you first discovered it, the subsequent comparisons, and a hidden army who know it better than you or came too late to be credible. Bullshit, obviously, but since when was human nature a bastion of balance.

So with Allergic to Water being DiFranco’s eighteenth studio album, yes – eighteenth, there’s no doubt a myriad of fence hopping stories to contend with (I don’t know what the Burning Man equivalent would be) and I apologies in advance if I fall into this trap.

Allergic to Water is out on global release today (13th Oct); 12 slickly produced tracks with Ani DiFranco at the helm, recorded and mixed between her own New Orleans home and a nearby church/studio (think acoustics not religion). It opens softly, with almost distant vocals and a steel string drawl; vocals strut over a slow beat, with lyrics to “remind me to quit my job, say farewell to it all’. Allergic to Water’s opening track is called ‘Dithering’ but it feels more like a road trip.

The following ‘See, See, See, See’ continues this restrained approach, with DiFranco’s vocals bordering on husky (if I could ever use the term without cringing) and me feeling a little shortchanged. Then ‘Woe Be Gone’ introduces strings and lyrics that wake me up to pay attention. “I mean, what the hell, raise your hand if you’re at peace right now, in fact, just stand up and take a bow.”

‘Careless Words’ opens (and closes) with a cymbal crash that makes me think of The Velvet Underground, as DiFranco implores an audience of one to think before they speak – ironically with lyrics I’ve heard the Big Writer behind the Little Folksinger deliver with more aplomb.

Then, on the cusp of the midway point, comes a touch of honesty that stamps DIFRANCO back on this album in big, bold type; the album’s title track is as open and challenging as you’d want or expect.

Alongside some simple keys, the girl/guitar/metaphor formula casually exposes a raw nerve or too. I’m unsure whether it’s a person or profession that ‘tickles my throat and blisters my skin’ in ‘Allergic to Water’, but whatever the focus there’s nothing in this track to distract you from the message. Ani DiFranco sounds tired, of someone or something.

And as if in answer to my doubt, ‘Harder than it Needs to Be’ marks the halfway point and a clear direction for the suffering – on this track at least; “I married your mama, I married your papa, when I married you, and right now it’s clear who I’m talking to.” The single production credit now sits like an unwelcome guest.

The next two tracks, ‘Genie’ and ‘Happy All the Time’ I saw performed at The Glee Club, with the album recordings being (as I remember) tempered and less punchy. But live, forget about it. As good as it gets. Plus there’s an interesting reference to Isis (the goddess not terrorists) in the latter which just goes to show how fu*ked up the world media and Google can make our cultural melting pot. Some things move too quickly these days to be either real or rational.

‘Year Yr Right’ and ‘Tr’w’ somewhat pass me by, before the violins return in ‘Still My Heart’ – with a reverb on guitar that makes me think of a happy David Lynch soundtrack, if such a thing could occur. Then we’re back to stripped back strings and a clear vocal lead, as ‘Rainy Parade’ nudges us to solider on and try a smile once or twice a day (the end to this track, and by proxy the album as a whole, is simple and a bit wonderful too).

Allergic to Water is a proficient production with certainly something to say, just not always to me. There are some brilliant moments and never a dull one (missed perhaps, ignored maybe, but never dull); it’s fresh and inventive in parts, then comfortably familiar in others. But it doesn’t punch me in the face – not in the way I’ve wanted since To the Teeth “stuffed God down the barrel of gun” or Not a Pretty Girl made me realise I could be.

‘Steeped in an exhausted melancholy’ is what I wrote after my first listen, alongside a series of boxing metaphors and concerns for a stranger’s welfare (I’ll say it again, Ani DiFranco sounds somewhat worn down on this recording).

Outside of that was only a list of extended comparisons, which I said I wouldn’t do and have probably done enough. Besides, someone out there can always tell me what I should have thought – circa 1995 or before, that is.

________

Allergic to Water is out on general release from today, Monday 13^th October, on Righteous Babe Records.

For more on Allergic to Water, alongside online purchasing & further Ani DiFranco recordings, visit http://www.righteousbabe.com/