Song, by Toad

Posts tagged kate and anna mcgarrigle

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Kate & Anna McGarrigle – Tell My Sister

 I absolutely love demos.  You should know this by now of course, not least because I have spent the last year endlessly rattling on about music, even if it wasn’t a demo in the first place, has been brutally re-engineered to make damn sure it sounds like one.

These demos, on the other hand, are just fucking beautiful and need no polish to improve them. Tell My Sister is actually a three CD box set, containing two re-releases and a collection of demos.  The re-releases are the McGarrigle’s first two albums – lovely in themselves, but not really what I want to talk about here.  Go and find and listen to them for yourselves; they really are worth it.

Given I already own the first two records, albeit on secondhand vinyl which isn’t in particularly good condition, for me this release is all about the third disc: the collection of twenty-one demos, odds and ends.

My relationship with the McGarrigles is a slightly elusive one, actually.  Their music conjures all sorts of powerful nostalgia in me, probably because my parents had both their first albums when I was a kid.  That sounds sensible enough, but I don’t remember them actually playing them that much, despite the fact that they loved both records.

I think it might have something to do with my Dad being Canadian, although I’m not sure.  My Mum listened to a lot of chart pop – Kate Bush, David Bowie, ABC, Depeche Mode, Duran Duran and The Pet Shop Boys.  The music my Dad brought into the house, however, was often North American: stuff like Bob Dylan, The Band, Neil Young and Tom Waits.  I say North American because, being raised in Austria and spending much more time with my English family than Canadian, I didn’t distinguish the fact that Neil Young was Canadian and Bob Dylan American, in particular, it was all just from ‘over there’.

For what I guess are probably similar reasons I also always found the fact that I am half-Canadian to be kind of mysterious.  I had a very vague relationship with the country and with my family over there, and even now it seems kind of odd that I carry a Canadian passport, given I’ve never really lived in the country.

I may not have associated Neil Young with Canada in particular, but that was definitely not the case with the McGarrigles.  There are several possible reasons for this.  Partly, my Dad knew them from when he studied at McGill, albeit it only kind of tangentially – I think they were sort of friends with his brother, but I’m not quite sure.  Partly, they sing in French a fair bit.  And partly there’s a lot of geography in their lyrics, even down to simple things like singing about “farmhouses buried under Canada snow” in the utterly beautiful Walking Song.

So maybe the false nostalgia of not hearing it as much as a kid as I find myself imagining I did is compounded by their music and their Canadian identity providing me with one of the only childhood links I have to a part of my history I still have barely any other means of forming a relationship with.

Lyrically this music is evocative for so many reasons.  Partly the simple storytelling, full of tiny details, and partly the emotional impact they seem to be able to conjure almost at will. They can be playful or heartbroken, and always somehow a little wistful, painting almost everything with the grey-blue wash of a rainy day.

There’s also the actual vocal delivery, and the sisters’ lovely voices which manage that juggling act of being at once utterly characteristic and really quite classic – the kind of blend which gives songs broad, casual appeal, and yet makes them utterly unforgettable at the same time.

Given how into rough and nasty music I am at the moment, I am slightly surprised by how much I loved these demos, from the very first moment I heard them. Shorn of the baubles and bunting of full arrangements, the songs themselves are just so simple and so direct I find it almost impossible not to listen intently to each and every one. Just with their voices, these two could make you feel a heart-rending nostalgia, even if you’d never heard their music before in your life.

Kate & Anna McGarrigle – Heart Like a Wheel

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Kate & Anna McGarrigle – Come a Long Way

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Website | More mp3s | Buy direct from Nonesuch Records

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Toadcast #180 – The Corsicast

This podcast was recorded – not a word of a lie – on a deserted mountaintop in Corsica in the shadow of a ruined castle.  Not an especially enormous ruined castle, I’ll grant you, but the shadow of a ruined castle nevertheless.

I will try and show you this as clearly as possible when I choose the picture for the mp3 tag and all that stuff, but I honestly doubt it will be all that easy.  Vast panoramas of rocky mountains don’t really come across all that well in photos, particularly when the only device you have with you with which to take them is an iPhone.

Anyhow, having recorded this, the challenge is going to be to find somewhere to upload the fucker.  Bank machines and shops which let you pay by card are pretty scarce commodities in the interior of the island, never mind a decent internet connection.

Direct download: Toadcast #180 – The Corsicast

01. Kate & Anna McGarrigle – Come a Long Way (00.09)
02. Yusuf Azak – Lay Me Down (05.36)
03. The Black Tambourines – Better Off Dead (09.54)
04. Fog – 10th Avenue Freakout (18.42)
05. Six Organs of Admittance – Saint Cloud (23.19)
06. Adam Stafford – Fire & Theft (33.20)
07. Neil Young – Old Man (Live at Massey Hall 1971) (38.45)
08. Girls Names – I Lose (46.53)
09. Mavis the Dog – End of Our Day (50.55)
10. Jenny Reeve & Jill O’Sullivan – Tooth & Claw (56.59)

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Toadcast #157 – The Vinylcast

I’ve been itching to do this podcast for a while, but only now got my arse in gear to do it: record a podcast straight from vinyl.  It’s a bit of a nuisance, because I have to switch back and forth from the mic, for the chatty bits, to the USB input for the records… oh never mind, you don’t care about my logistical hassles do you.

The nice thing about vinyl is that the playlist is not simply going to be an inbox dump of whatever new indie has arrived this week, simply because I don’t have all that much new music on vinyl.  Some, but not lots.

Also, the electicism factor is massively increased, partly because my vinyl collection is downright eccentric, and partly because the very act of leafing through completely unsorted piles of records seems to make me lots more likely to pick something absolutely random which fits with nothing else at all and really has no excuse being anywhere near a haircut indie try-hard hipster podcast.  Which is of course exactly what this is.

Direct download: Toadcast #157 – The Vinylcast

01. Windsor Davies & Don Estelle – Whispering Grass (from It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum) (00.29)
02. Eat Skull – Heaven’s Stranger (06.27)
03. The Shop Assistants – Safety Net (12.50)
04. Beat the Devil – Mr. Ray (15.14)
05. King Creosote – The Right Form (25.47)
06. Seefeel – Faults (34.12)
07. The Japanese War Effort – Ribbit (39.09)
08. Edna McGriff – The Fool (44.29)
09. Kate & Anna McGarrigle – Heart Like a Wheel (51.19)
10. Jimmie Lunceford & his Orchestra – Well Alright Then (62.43)

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Toadcast #119 – The Popcast

Tomorr… yesterday I flew out to Paris to see Mrs. Toad, who has been stuck in God Bless America for the last two weeks because of Iceland’s seismic indiscipline.  We are going to have dinner and walk together and hold hands and generally act like a couple of idiots.  More or less like we always do.  For a couple of curmudgeonly old fuckers who spend their entire lives swearing at one another, we are a pretty sentimental pair, really.

This podcast is mostly based around my Dad and his music.  For my early years I was well into my Mum’s stuff, but as I got older I got more into my Dad’s kind of stuff – Tom Waits, Dylan, Neil Young and all that.  When I really, really got into music it was never into contemporary, modern or trendy stuff, it was always the old shite my parents were into.

I repay them the favour nowadays, or at least, I try to, but I never really picked up on music from my peers, it was always from my folks.  Hence this podcast.

Toadcast #119 – The Popcast

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01. Bruce Springsteen – Thunder Road (05.16)
02. The Band – The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down (13.27)
03. Willie Nelson – Mommas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys (16.53)
04. Kate & Anna McGarrigle – Walking Song (24.12)
05. Tom Waits & Thelonious Monster – Adios Lounge (32.54)
06. Elton John – Ballad of a Well Known Gun (41.21)
07. Bob Dylan – Days of 49 (46.07)
08. Elvis Perkins in Dearland – I Heard Your Voice in Dresden (53.49)
09. The Builders & the Butchers – Barcelona (57.51)
10. Jackson Browne – Fountain of Sorrow (66.15)

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Toadcast #55 – Samamidon Toad Session

Samamidon Toad Session

The day after his amazing live set at the Bowery, Sam Amidon came round to the house to record a Toad Session.  He didn’t have all that much time, and I don’t think he quite knew what he’d let himself in for either, so this one is pretty brief.  Still, between this and the footage from the live show I think we have a really nice portrait of the guy, who is so different in person from his recordings.  Whilst the latter may be beautiful, and whilst All Is Well is an amazingly lovely album, his personality dominates his live show so much it gives you such a different perspective on his music.

As per usual, we have the session podcast below, and after that the Toad Session mp3 files, which you are free to pass around as you please.  The videos are posted below that, and can all be found on the Song, by Toad Vimeo page (recommended) as well as the YouTube page (shit, but popular, so I have to put them there too).  There’s also a series of photos from the session, which can be found on our Flickr page.  The tracklisting for the podcast is at the bottom of this post – enjoy!

Toadcast #55 – Samamidon Toad Session

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And the downloadable, shareable, huggable mp3s from the session:

Samamidon – 1842 (Toad Session)

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Samamidon – Pretty Fair Damsel (Toad Session)

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Samamidon – Fiddle Mayhem (Toad Session)

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And the videos:

And the playlist for Toadcast #55 – Samamidon Toad Session:

01. Samamidon – 1842 (Toad Session) (05.23)
02. Peter & Mary Alice Amidon – True Born Sons of Levi (10.23)
03. Mary Margaret O’Hara – When You Know Why You’re Happy (12.49)
04. Shirley Collins – Lovin’ Hannah (18.17)
05. Samamidon – Pretty Fair Damsel (Toad Session) (24.16)
06. Othar Turner & The Rising Star Fife And Drum – Bouncin’ Ball (33.20)
07. Kate & Anna McGarrigle – Swimming Song (36.29)
08. Doveman – Happy (38.53)
09. Samamidon – Fiddle Mayhem (Toad Session) (47.49)

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Is This the Most Beautiful Song Ever?

Dancer With Bruised Knees

Well no, probably not. But it’s pretty close. It’s dreamy, but not saccharine and romantic, but nevertheless real. More than anything else of course, with this kind of music, it strikes several chords with me all at once.

Firstly, it has strong childhood associations. My Dad vaguely knew the McGarrigles at University in Montreal, I think, and he played this album a lot when we were kids. Then, when the humidity in Singapore destroyed his entire vinyl stash, he managed to salvage this song onto a superlative compilation tape, alongside Bob Dylan, Tom Waits, Neil Young, The Band, The Stones, early Elton John and Jackson Browne. Unbelievable compilations, they were, and ones that I have devoted considerable energy to recreating in the years since, with one exception: this song.

I’m not going to describe the lyrics and compare them to my life all that rigorously, but they do remind me very strongly of my relationship with my pint-sized pixie, the lovely Mrs Toad. It’s a realistic love song about two people who have been through the mill a bit, which we both had by the time we met, approaching our 30s. We walked and walked in those early months, across London, Edinburgh, anywhere really, chattering and chattering and holding hands.

We talked about all things – deep things, difficult things, trivial things, all sorts. A mutual loathing of Sarah Jessica Parker was an early point of agreement. We found that despite Mrs Toad being more of a Libertarian Capitalist and myself more of a recalcitrant Socialist we actually seemed to agree on virtually all specific policies, despite hardly agreeing at all on most political principles. Both of us, it turned out, have a habit of playing really, really loud punk music when we are drunk late at night. We walked and walked and told stories of what we’d been doing in the ten years since we last knew each other. What had worked out, what hadn’t; stories of hurt and embarrassment; funny ones, angry ones, wistful ones. We just loved being together. Her living in Edinburgh and me in London made our weekends together amazingly precious and quite intense, and we made every last second count.

I just remember this absolute trust and complete love of one another’s company being so overwhelming, and I think that if we can keep that in sight then I can say with confidence that ‘walking beside her, I’ll never get the walking blues.’

Kate & Anna McGarrigle – Walking Song

It’s from the album Dancer With Bruised Knees, which I barely know anything about since I was thrown in the bin back in 1989, having warped and gone mouldy in a tropical climate, but it’s available for less than a fiver from Amazon and my Dad reckons it’s well worth a punt.

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