I’ve been driving my sister’s car for the past couple of months and it’s one of those rare breeds that was manufactured before CD players were a standard dashboard feature. Even though I do listen to my ipod through an adapter sometimes, the upshot of this is that I’ve been listening to the radio a lot more. I like the unpredictability of what will come on next and although you can achieve this by hitting the shuffle button on your ipod, you’ve uploaded all that gear yourself, whereas the radio can throw anything at you – you never know what you’ll hear next. Unless of course you’re listening to bloody Fox or Nova, who I swear only ever play the same 6 songs, over and over and over again, and insist on playing Nickelback tunes without even bothering to issue a health warning first.
So yes – Triple J is my station of choice, which I guess makes sense given the nature of this blog, and Perth’s Birds Of Tokyo have recently made an appearance on my radar, in the form of the (slightly trendy, ’tis true) ‘Plans’. I wasn’t a fan of it at first, but it’s grown on me and I think it’s been stuck in my head for a week now.
Birds Of Tokyo’s self-titled third album hit the streets last Friday, and will be backed up by a national tour in September. Check their myspace for details.
I’m not familiar with any of David Vandervelde’s work beyond his seriously gorgeous 2008 release Waiting For The Sunrise, and so my impression of his style tends to rest somewhere within the confines of this:
There’s this drive that I do on a fairly regular basis but for some reason I never take the exact same route. It’s pretty open country and there are a couple of towns that I try to hit up on the way, and as long as I pass through them without diverting too much the drive usually takes around the same amount of time.
Last weekend I found yet another new way to go and came across this tiny abandoned church. It was missing a front door and was completely empty inside save for a few scribblings on the wall and the odd branch or two littering the floor. I was the only soul around for miles, the clouds were closing in and the loose piece of corrugated iron that flapped an irregular rhythm on the roof was the only thing that spoiled the silence.
I tiptoed around the building taking photos and peering through the windows. I could’ve wandered about inside but there was something a little eerie about the place and I couldn’t quite bring myself to enter. I do love discovering these places though – the more abandoned and run down the better.
I was trying to think of some music to go along with this picture, and couldn’t go past Bowerbirds – I can totally see a video like this being made in a church like that:
And this – for both the title and the general melancholy vibe of the song. It’s perfect.
This was meant to be a post about how much I love The Avett Brothers 2009 release I And Love And You but hours are slipping through my fingers like seconds today and I’m afraid the careful analysis just won’t be happening. Just know that it’s gorgeous and wistful and charming. If you don’t own it, buy it. If you do own it, give it another spin. ‘January Wedding’ is my current favourite. Love.
It’s all quick pre-scheduled posts here for the next few days I’m afraid as I’m away from home for work this week. I love all the songs you’ll see here though, even if I’ve not had the time to write a lot about them!
The Jezabels are an indie rock type four-piece from Sydney who spent much of May touring Australia in support of Tegan & Sara. I don’t know much more about them than that, but their track ‘Easy To Love’ has copped a serious flogging around my place this weekend, and it’s all down to lead singer Hayley Mary’s vocals. They’re outstanding. Listening last night, I was reminded of both Shakespears Sister and Kate Bush, and I noted today that they were listed as influences on their myspace, which was kinda cool because I’m normally rubbish at all those ‘sounds like’ comparisons.
Anyway – I love this song. So much so that I can even ignore the part where they rhyme ‘sky’ with ‘thigh’ in the opening lines.
Yerbird Records: Folk Music For What Lies Ahead (update with track listing and release date… I can report with confidence that it will be worth the wait!)
This video just makes me giggle. Got a fist of pure emotion… got a head of shattered dreams….
Anything Take That related makes me think of this day in Grade 6 when my friend ran wailing up the corridor, shouting about some band called Take That breaking up. “Who’s Take That?” I asked. Who, indeed.
This was meant to appear in my most recent coverage post, but for some reason I overlooked it.
I came across Joseph Arthur a year or so ago I think, through another blog no doubt, although I can’t for the life of me pinpoint which one. His song ‘Speed Of Light’ is what first caught my ear and whenever it pops up unexpectedly I always cease whatever I’m doing and listen, transfixed, until the song is over. It’s such a wistful kind of song and every time I hear it I’m filled with sadness. Lots of music makes me feel sad, but it’s usually a good kind of sad, if you know what I mean. It’s hard to describe, but sometimes words and melodies combine to create something that either resonates so perfectly with me, or so perfectly captures a moment or feeling that it’s almost too beautiful to bear, and therefore makes me sad.
It’s the same feeling I get when I stand inside a cathedral. I’m not religious, but every time I enter a cathedral I’m overcome with this weird combination of calm and sadness. I think it’s got something to do with the time and effort that it took to create such a building. I know that many cathedrals were built using the time and labour of unwilling participants, and that the building process would’ve been horrific in so many ways, but the fact that they are still standing, unwavering and unmoved, is magical to me. Nobody builds like that any more. (Obviously there are reasons for this – forced labour is no longer permitted being one of them – but nobody even thinks in those terms any more. We are such an impatient I-want-it-now society these days that even considering such a project would be viewed as sheer lunacy). The fact that nothing we build today comes even close to this grandeur and beauty is what makes me sad I think. On the other hand, the beauty of these buildings is also what brings about the calm I mentioned earlier. It’s something to do with their symmetry and their height. For me, their power is in their aesthetics, their strength and stability.
Back to the music….
Joseph Arthur is one of those enviably creative folk who are all things all at once – in his case, musician, poet and artist. I’ve only delved into his musical side so far, but I love his lyrics so I imagine his poetry will turn out to be just as impressive.
I think this lyric in ‘Speed Of Light’ perfectly captures all I’ve found him to be so far – wistful and pensive.
and if you hate your life, just remember that there used to be a time when we could not feel a thing
He too understands that feeling sadness is better than feeling nothing at all.
There are hardly any lyrics, it’s repetitive and is bound to appear on a Nike ad at some point… but it’s catchy as, and I love it. It’s Foster The People’s ‘Pumped Up Kicks’. Just do it.
