Song, by Toad

Archive for April, 2010

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Emit Bloch – The Light vs Waterfalls vs Taxi Driver

I know I don’t often post other people’s videos, but I thought this one was interesting, and would give you something to do inbetween boring meetings and internet skiving while you wait for lunch.

Firstly, I like Emit Bloch.  I am in the process of reviewing his album, and popped a song on a recent podcast, so you’ll be hearing more of Mr. Bloch around here shortly.

Secondly, this video was described to me thus, when it was sent through: “Emit Bloch’s cosmic bluegrass Mash Up of Hank William’s ‘I Saw The Light’, TLC’s ‘Waterfalls’ with sound and ambient footage from the movie ‘Taxi Driver’ by Martin Scorsese.” Now, you know I don’t like covers much, and I have absolutely no interest in mashups, but the idea of a cover mashup interests me.  It strikes me as being much closer to the process of re-imagining the raw materials of creativity, and I like the idea.  Making it relative to a specific film as well gives the whole piece of work another cultural reference point which further adds to the mix and in general, this seems like the kind of thing the internet and accessible digital technology were made for.

Then again, maybe I’m making up a bunch of fancy-sounding shit to excuse the fact that I just happen to like this tune, despite it contradicting loads of things I’ve said in the past.  Hypocrite? Me?

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Sparrow & the Workshop – Crystals Fall

Crystals Fall?  How about Bear Wolf Crystal Fucks Fall, just to make it properly Pitchforky?  Crystals bloody Fall my arse.

Anyhow, I am not all that keen on the name, but that’s about all I can find wrong with this album, despite the fact that it does a lot of things I don’t like.  There are too many songs, for starters.  And a lot of those songs are direct repeats of songs from earlier EPs, and a few are re-recordings – another bad sign.  And the result?  Well, it’s fucking brilliant isn’t it!

What I like about these guys is the sheer range of the emotions in their stuff.  For a mild-mannered, friendly bunch they can sound pretty fucking pissed off a lot of the time.  Jill in particular, the lead singer, rather contradicts her shy, hiding behind the fringe, trying not to look at the audience on-stage manner with the sheer vitriol of a lot of her delivery.  Her voice is something really special, though.  Fragile, vulnerable, warm, confrontational or downright vicious when it needs to be, it imbues the whole album with real emotional sincerity.*

And then there’s Nick on guitar: what a jolly, friendly, warm, unassuming fellow he seems, and yet on this record he’s like some sort of guitar gremlin – all cute and fuzzy until you’re stupid enough to pour water on him.  Given the kind of stuff he shows he’s capable of producing when needed – take the end of Swam Like Sharks or Into the Wild, for example – it shows tremendous humility, which an awful lot of musicians lack, to be as restrained as he is in applying his talents to the rest of this album.

And Gregor on drums?  Well he’s a ginger Glaswegian, so erm, yes, enough said.  Sparrow & the Workshop often reverse the roles of guitar and drums, using the latter as the lead instrument and the former to pin down the rhythm.  They can do this, simply, because Gregor is a fucking brilliant drummer.  The momentum and lightness of touch on this album owe no little debt to the brisk pace set by the percussion, and that’s before you even touch on the vocal interplay between his voice and Jill’s, which is one of the best features of the whole Sparrow & the Workshop sound.

They neatly sidestep the fact that this album has a few more songs on it than I normally think is wise by deft sequencing and snappy songwriting.  The songs themselves are pretty bloody lean – no noodling and no extra choruses – and at about that three-quarter mark, where fourteen-song albums can start to lag a little, the songs come at you thick and fast: five of six don’t reach the three minute mark.  So I may still have been tempted to trim the album down a little, but this kind of pace and the sheer energy of the actual band themselves give Crystals Fall real momentum.

A lot of bands get as far as a couple of singles and an EP and basically exhaust their material, and it gives me great personal satisfaction to see how Sparrow & the Workshop have consistently beaten this particular devil over the last couple of years.  Certain tracks, like the title song, don’t quite capture the sheer vitality of the band at their best, but in general every time a fresh batch of songs has emerged, they have been of the highest quality.

For music which is in most senses composed of pretty familiar elements, they also rather impressively manage to steer clear of being predictable.  You can hear folk, country and rock in there, but I can’t think of many bands to actually compare them to.  They’re bloody brilliant though, whatever they are.

Sparrow & the Workshop – Last Chance

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Sparrow & the Workshop – Broken Heart, Broken Home

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*And if she doesn’t start playing that bloody violin on more songs I am going to take it from her and sell it on eBay – it’s beeeeautiful!

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Hezekiah Jones – Bread of Teeth EP

Well, erm, this is… well it’s bloody brilliant actually.  I am a bit nervous to say that because the last time I gave something pretty much unequivocal praise was the Songdog album, which resulted in the sort of deafening silence only the internet can produce.  Sometimes I think you fuckers just don’t listen to me at all.

This is the first release on my friend Sandy from Slowcoustic’s new label, Yer Bird Records, and it is nice to be able to give someone who has been such a support to Song, by Toad Records genuine praise for their own work.  Although given that he liked our stuff it implies that we have pretty similar tastes so I suppose that was pretty inev.. oh never mind, you get the picture.

Hezekiah Jones, then.  Well I played the stunning I Love My Family on this week’s podcast, but I am going to reiterate what I said at the time: that the sequencing on Bread of Teeth is really odd.  Not bad – it actually works really well – but surprising.  The EP starts with an upbeat, skiffley number called Iowa Alligator which washes electric guitars over a jaunty banjo duet and gives you a completely false impression of the kind of record you’re listening to.

The next track, the aforementioned I Love My Family, uses Heather Simpson’s vocal again, but this time more as a gorgeous compliment to the lead.  The instrumentation is minimal, with the inner fears of the narrative brought beautifully to life by the restrained rise of the harmonies around the lyrical focus of the song: “things ain’t gonna last”.  It’s a perfect reversal of the saccharine sentimentalism I feared from the title.

This theme continues into Traffic to the Sea before Sorry Waltz lifts the pace a little, albeit only marginally, with a slow drum beat and lovely, echoey piano.  This is as full as the sound gets, and there’s a sort of grand lament to it when the harmonies are at their fullest, but it’s still pretty bloody downbeat, especially lyrically.  All this is some come-down from the skip and grin of the first song, but it’s an unusual way to structure a record and I like it.

I know Sandy was a little concerned about jumping headfirst into running a label, but if this is the sort of stuff that they’ll be releasing then I think he’s going to do very, very nicely indeed.

Hezekiah Jones – I Love My Family

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Loch Lomond – Night Bats EP (mini) Tour

The hardest thing about working with a band from Foreign Parts is that there is a bit of a limit to what you can do for them from far away, especially when you’re our size.  Generally, all the things I can do to help a band out around here – Toad Sessions, tell my friends about them, try and get them written about on blogs or on the radio or on live bills and so on – are much harder if no-one gets the chance to see them and have my general pestering backed up by other people.

Loch Lomond have their second Song, by Toad Records release coming up in May, when their gorgeous Night Bats EP comes out over here.  We’ve already had a rather positive review from SoundsXP, and their split 12″ with the Builders & the Butchers was also very well received, I reckon this EP will hopefully go down very well indeed.

Anyhow, to help us promote the release, the band have made the incredible commitment of travelling over to Scotland to play some gigs and do some sessions in support of the EP.  I really appreciate this, as it is far from a significant expense.

So they are playing four dates, one of which gives us the chance to come through to Glasgow for our first label showcase, so it’s all pretty exciting.  Please come along and support these guys if you can – it’s no small thing they’re doing, coming over here to entertain you ungrateful fuckers, you know.

Wednesday 19th May: Song, by Toad Records Label Showcase at Mono, Glasgow.
With Meursault, Loch Lomond and Jonnie Common – £5 on the door.

Thursday 20th May: The Tunnels, Aberdeen.
With Tim and Sam’s Tim and Sam Band.

Friday 21st May: The Barrels Alehouse, Berwick.
With Tim and Sam’s Tim and Sam Band.

Saturday 22nd May: Toad and Ruth’s Toad and Ruth Show at The Queen Charlotte Rooms, Leith.
With Sam Amidon & Meursault (solo acoustic).

Loch Lomond – Wax & Wire

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What’s On in Edinburgh – 19th April 2010

Okay, there aren’t any titans, but there are plenty of clashes in this week’s gig calendar.  Look at Saturday for instance – The Fall, The Leg or Bear in Heaven? – it depends on the precise length and angle of your fringe I suppose.  Well, that and the cut of your jeans.

And Wednesday, what do I do?  Go and butter up Yusuf Azak and try and get him to join the label, or go and butter up the Foxxes and try and make sure they stay?  That’s the music industry for you: so many arses to kiss and so little time in which to do it.

In other news, I have been invited down to Unconvention in Manchester to sit on a panel of labels and band managers to make some wafer-thin pretence of having something intelligent to contribute.  I will try very hard to not perform my usual trick of just talking over the top of people until they shush, and make a genuine effort to be a productive and valuable member of society. Yes yes, I know, stop laughing.

Wednesday 21st April 2010: Euan McMeeken, Yusuf Azak, Woodchucker, Dan Arborise & Library Tapes at the Roxy Room.

Yusuf has just finished his debut album which we are hoping to persuade him to release on Song, by Toad Records later in the year, and on Wednesday he and Euan will be supporting Dan Arborise and Library Tapes down at the Roxy Room.

Yusuf Azak – Ursa Major

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Wednesday 21st April 2010: Jesus H. Foxx & White Heath at Maggie’s Chamber.

The Foxx are currently writing and recording their new album, which is due out… well, about three or four months after they finish it, if we’re being determinedly practical about these things, which we have to be.  They’ve been posting demos and works-in-progress on their blog, so you can pop through there and have a preview if you like.

Jesus H. Foxx – The Sea (Demo)

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Thursday 22nd April 2010: Woodenbox with a Fistful of Fivers, The Stormy Seas, The Kays Lavelle & Tony Yorston at the Wee Red Bar.

This is the Woodenbox album launch party, and with my own very recent experience of album launches, that means it should be a gigantic, messy, good-natured piss up.  Their stomping Americana has been particularly upwardly mobile recently, which may be related to their recent hook-up with a new manager, and I am looking forward to hearing the full album.

Friday 23rd April 2010: Slaraffenland & Efterklang at Cabaret Voltaire.

A very Pitchforky gig, this.  Efterklang were pretty good at SXSW, but I find their recent album no better than okay.  Apparently earlier stuff is miles better though, so erm, well yes, good luck with this one. Lots of my friends, whose music taste I agree with in most aspects, love these guys but I don’t really know them well enough yet.

Slaraffenland – Long Gone

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Friday 23rd April 2010: Steffen Basho-Jughans & C. Joynes at the Roxy Room.

This looks like being an extremely interesting evening of music, particularly for those looking for something a little different this week.  This is something of a steel-stringed guitar masterclass, with all three bands featuring the instrument quite prominently apparently.  More information is available from the Facebook page for the event.

Saturday 24th April 2010: Maybe Myrtle Turtle, Enfant Bastard & The Leg at the Bristo Hall.

This is a fundraiser gig, and will be headlined by The Leg, who I would probably describe as My Favourite Edinburgh Band Who I Have Inexplicably Failed to Ever See Live.

Saturday 24th April 2010: The Fall at Studio 24.

I don’t really need to tell you anything about The Fall, do I?

Saturday 24th April 2010: Bear in Heaven at Sneaky Pete’s.

Bear in Heaven are extremely hip at the moment, and I not sure if they are more famous for being famous, or because someone famous tweeted about them, hence making them even more famous, and simultaneously a poster child for modern social media marketing.  Oh, and they play quite electronic stuff, which is not bad at all.

I am clearly not as hip as I pretend to be (was anyone really fooled?) because despite their being extremely cool, I don’t actually have any music by Bear in Heaven on my drive.  Out of shame, I have substituted at track by The Tragically Hip called the Bear, in the hope that you won’t notice.

The Tragically Hip – The Bear

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Toadcast #118 – The Ashcast

Mrs. Toad has been stranded in God Bless America by that infernal cloud of Icelandic ash, so I am home alone for the last week and all of the next one.  This is very much Not Fun, because as much as she’s a mean old bitch, I do seem to have developed a grudging affection for the silly old mare so a fortnight apart is very much unappreciated.  It’s about time those Icelanders re-established some bloody discipline, honestly.

Anyhew, there is some excellent stuff on this podcast, even though it really doesn’t hang together around a particular theme as they sometimes do.  In actual fact, I don’t think I’ve done a themey one for a while – might give that a go next week.

Toadcast #118 – The Ashcast

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01. Johnny Flynn – Kentucky Pill (4.11)
02. Burnt Island – A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again (10.51)
03. Draw Me Stories – Becomes the Hunted (18.25)
04. Haunted Stereo – Lock the Doors (22.29)
05. Ragged Claws – Lamed Wufniks (30.44)
06. Fleet Foxes – Silver Dagger (36.07)
07. Hezekiah Jones – I Love My Family (40.13)
08. Cocorosie – Lemonade (42.14)
09. Br’er – Crocus (50.41)
10. Devolver – Promise (56.24)
11. Giant Sand – Anarchistic Bloshevistic Cowboy Bundle (58.44)

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Thoughts On A Scene

[This week's Sunday Supplement has been prepared for us by Ali Millar. Noted for her tireless work on putting together last year's hugely succesful Oxjam festival, Ali is about to venture into the murky waters of live promotion... Don't forget to email us at sunday(at)songbytoad.com if you've got an idea for a Sunday Supplement you'd like to see published]

Before I start this piece I want to kind of issue a small disclaimer, that what follows is mainly a collection of (poorly) gathered thoughts that have been floating around somewhere in my head for a while, and I just wanted to throw them out there. Also I want to apologise in advance that this is very much an Edinburgh-centric piece.

I’m pretty new in terms of understanding the city’s music scene, but having organised, promoted and sweated blood organising Oxjam in Edinburgh last year I kind of jumped in at the deep and quickly became familiar with at least one facet of the music scene in Edinburgh. Prior to this I guess I was like a lot of people, I went to the bigger gigs, went through to Glasgow for a fair few shows, and moaned that nothing much went on here.

I can honestly say too that in the promotion of Oxjam so many people got behind us and helped out, Nick over at what was Under The Radar, Jim at Cab Vol, Andy and Alex at Off The Beaten Tracks, Matthew who put up with us on far too many occasions and most notably Meursault who did just about whatever we asked them to do. And it was a nice feeling, that there was a city kind of rooting for it to be a success, which it was and hopefully will be again this year. All of that, and more besides, really made me protective of the music Edinburgh has to offer. This has a flipside as at times I get frustrated that it doesn’t get the wider acclaim it deserves, and I can’t help but feel there must be more that can be done to promote it within the city and further afield too. Also there is the danger that I have become slightly blinkered in my view, I assume that everyone is going to gigs, buying EPs and albums by local bands and generally embracing what the city has to offer, all too quickly I have forgotten that for many people this simply isn’t the case. The problem is most people I talk to are all involved in music in some way and so I’m seeing the city through their eyes and we’re all looking at it close up, through music tinted glasses and the danger is that we could become complacent and self congratulatory when in actual fact there is a lot more that could be done in terms of promotion and exposure.

I have some inkling of how hard Matthew works, and reckon he should be exempt from this conversation, and I know too that there are a number of promoters out there who also work tirelessly and for not much in return. So maybe the issue here isn’t about doing more, but doing what we do a bit smarter. Maybe we could showcase something that the city has to offer, broaden the appeal and instead of it being the vision of one promoter or one charity event we could host an event that showcases the breadth of the talent within the city from the perspective of a number of promoters, and additionally the growing number of record labels we have too.

The press also have a certain responsibility, not just to promote bands, but to do so in a way that supports the city as a whole. It seems to be the only way that a critical mass can be reached that then allows for bands to get the attention they deserve. Okay, I understand that journalists have to be objective and if, in their objective opinion they listen to something they don’t like, then fine give it the review you think it deserves, regardless of where the musicians are based. That’s okay, and sure, it might cause a bit of fuss, but that’s all part of writing something down and letting people see it, but when it comes to covering the city as a whole it’s important, at this stage, that the coverage is favourable, that it creates an excitement and that the city is talked up as much as possible. In the recent past there have been examples where it was questioned whether the music scene could hold its own out with Edinburgh. Pieces such as this do nothing to help the bands, labels or promoters who all believe in what’s going on and who all want Edinburgh to have the wider recognition it so badly deserves. Also if our own national press, representing the city, can’t find it in themselves to promote the city, to be passionate and to pass that on to readers, then how can we expect to get wider coverage on a national level? We need to draw more people in and the media can play such an important part in this.

I suppose all I’m trying to ask in a roundabout way is what can we do to promote the music scene within the city more effectively and how can we open it up to wider audience both within and out with the city? It seems that this is the only way to ensure that it will continue to grow, to attract new talent and to not stagnate. We have an excellent base here of bands, bloggers, promoters and record labels, there is a lot to shout about, and more shouting that could be done.

Oh, and speaking of promotion, there’s a great gig on Thursday 22nd at The Wee Red Bar; Woodenbox with a Fistful of Fivers, The Stormy Seas, The Kays Lavelle and Tony Yorston, only a fiver in with free cake. Shameless plug. Sorry!

Woodenbox – Crooked Mile

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Meursault – Sleet

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Friday Has No Fucking Idea What You’re Talking About

Another day, and another week pootles by.  Are there more made up, gibberish and yet entirely understandable words for pottering about that anything else?  Is it the English equivalent of the Eskimos and their bazillion words for snow?  Mrs. Toad always accuses the cat of ‘foostering about’ somewhere.  Dylan from Blueback Hotrod is forever going on about ‘bimbling’ off somewhere.

It’s all gibberish, but you all know exactly what it means, don’t you?  It’s obviously just something we English speakers take great pride in: doing something without any real sense of purpose and perfectly happy to be distracted at the slightest notice.

Anyhow, last week Matt from StayLoose PR, who arranged the Mumford & Sons Toad Session for us, asked that it be published on a Friday, to help him give it as much publicity as possible, and given that he’d gone to great lengths for us and that a bit of help with publicity is always welcome, I fucked with your Friday Fives to satisfy the whims of The Man.  The Man in this case being Matt. Who is by all accounts a man.  Raarrrr!

Anyhow, in the comments last week we had Outraged of Adelaide (Agnes from It All Started With Carbon Monoxide) actually filling in an imaginary five and, honestly, the results were fucking hilarious.  So this week’s five is actually Agnes’ five answers, and instead of coming up with answers, this week I would like you all to try and guess what the questions which Agnes was answering in her head actually were.

And just the Mumfords Session was mentioned in the Guardian today, and therefore we might have a few more Guardian readers here than usual, I feel obliged to mention once again that yes, of course, I did pinch the idea for the Friday Fives from the Guardian Talk boards, so don’t whinge.

So here you go, try and figure out what the question was:

1. Roadkill – it’s the other white meat.
2. A strategically-placed eyepatch.
3. I wouldn’t know, I have a horse.
4. Desperate fucking Housewives.
5. The bloody Dum Dum Girls.  Shudder.

These five songs come from living in a flat in Surbiton with a girl I should never have been with, cheating on her like a fucker, breaking up with her, her moving out and then getting my whole deposit back on the flat because the lady felt sorry for me being abandoned.  I am a much nicer person these days, I promise.  But I am NOT the sort of person who should ever live in Surbiton.

Belle & Sebastian – Women’s Realm

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Elvis Costello – 15 Petals

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Tom McRae – End of the World News

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Richard Hawley – Baby, You’re My Light

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The Gentle Waves – Emmanuelle, Skating on Thin Ice

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I, Boys and Girls, am a Fucking Athlete

Oh stop laughing, I actually was, once.  I really could run all day up to about the age of thirty, when a series of back injuries pretty much did for my fitness.  I’ve also played football at a reasonable enough level, and stuff like that, I was in a pretty successful high school basketball team, and could perhaps have been forgiven for having delusions of adequacy were it not for one thing: I’ve seen myself on film.

I remember someone saying in a Friday Five once: “ever tried to film yourself having sex and realised that you just aren’t all that physically attractive?” It was a bit like that.

At high school my senior basketball team won the European International School championship, and when I lived down South I played football for a team who won a pretty significant amateur level cup final.  Both these events were filmed for posterity, and Christ I wish they hadn’t been.

To be clear, I was fucking good in both games.  The football game was against the highest-scoring team in the league, they had us on the back foot for the whole game, and we won 1-0.  I played centre-back, and anyone who knows anything about football will know how satisfying I will have found a game like that.  I remember one tackle late in the game where some lad skinned our full-back, I was running in completely the wrong direction, was sure I was going to give away a penalty, but guessed where he wanted to go, adjusted and managed to just get a toe on the ball and concede a corner.  It was a cracking tackle!  And we won 1-0, and they humped us, and I was a defender – I was good!

In the basketball final, we played a team who had beaten us in the group stages, who took shit infinitely more seriously than we ever did, and I scored eighteen points and didn’t miss a single shot.  100% from the floor and 100% from the free-throw line.  That’s a superb performance in anyone’s book.

Then I saw the videos.

Fuck.

It was dreadful.  I mean, I am not one of these deluded idiots who secretly thinks he’s an amazing sportsman, by any means.  I know I’m slow, a little clumsy, and make up for my lack of real talent in most sports with good reading of the game and plenty of physical courage.  I wasn’t expecting to see an effortlessly graceful athlete on those videos, but fucking hell I didn’t think it was going to be that bad.

In the basketball game I just looked stupid.  My arse was sticking out all the time, I looked like I could barely jump ( although I could actually dunk at the time – just!), and basically I was stumbling about the place like someone who’d been shown a basketball for the first time that very morning.

The football game was probably even more depressing, because I am actually a lot better at football, so I guess my expectations were a little higher.  Nope.  The whole game just looked so slow, it was embarrassing.  I worked my tits off in that game, and it genuinely looked like I wasn’t doing anything at all – I can barely remember even seeing myself involved.  And that tackle?  It looked like he just ran straight into me for no reason.

It was all so depressing an experience I can offer only this advice: if you think you look good, if you think a dress or a shirt look snappy, or if you think you’ve managed to strike a casual pose or you’re secretly quite confident in your elegant, upright gait or anything like that at all… NEVER try and prove it to yourself!  Never.  Just keep your delusions and go about your day, because the cold hard snigger of reality is not something you ever want to face.

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Songdog – A Life Eroding

Bloody hell, this album is fucking gorgeous!  I’ve been aware of Songdog ever since I Love My Angel’s Plastic Wings appeared on an Uncut compilation CD something like eight or nine years ago, and I’ve tried to get into their albums a couple of times since and never quite succeeded.

They’ve always felt a bit ponderous, honestly, although they have also felt like the kind of albums which take a bit of time and attention to get into, and I must confess that I’ve never really given them what felt like enough of either. It’s weird that you can spend so long – nine years! – kinda flirting with a band, but never quite crossing the room and asking them to dance.

Songdog – I Love My Angel’s Plastic Wings

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This record, on the other hand was instantaneous.  The first time I listened to it my grin just broadened over the first three or four songs, and then settled down into a smug smile over the course of the rest of the album.  I have finally clicked with Songdog; back catalogue, here I come.

What’s the difference?  Well I don’t know, maybe it’s just my state of mind, but there is a wonderfully light touch to this record.  It’s got a shitload more going on than I remember with this band, but those richer arrangements have been applied in such a confident, well judged manner that it actually feels like there is less here – it’s less dense, less cloying, and much livelier.  It’s almost as if by adding something they’ve been able to take something away.

It’s the strings which really make an impression on this album.  Songdog have always produced pretty downtempo music, with a sort of indulgently slow pace and thick atmosphere, but the strings here are absolutely gorgeous, and seem to be able to lift the lighter moments, and bring a kind of solace to the moments of pathos which the band haven’t, to my scant knowledge, quite achieved before.  There are even trumpet solos; sad ones, I’ll grant you, but trumpet solos!

Then there’s the lyrics.  From the start Songdog have been adept at moaning away about how shit and ordinary life is, in the most maudlin possible manner, and then dropping in the kind of turn of phrase that stops you in your tracks.  I have not infrequently found myself rewinding their songs just to check that I really did hear what I think I just heard; did they really just sing “I’m nobody special, but I give pretty good head”?  Why yes, yes they fucking did.

These moments work like a ukulele strum, in that they are like a chink in the clouds, bringing necessary moments of levity to lyrics which are generally quite cynical and full of the woes of everyday ordinary lives.  With the more expansive arrangements they’ve been able to bring that same light touch to the music as well, and the result is an album which is an absolute joy, and makes me feel a bit stupid for not having made enough time for this band years ago.

Songdog – 3.30am (Small Talk)

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Songdog – An Old Man’s Love

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