A couple of days back, yvynyl blog posted about the unlikely discovery of two Nashville-based friends who had made a record in 2011. ‘Anywhere But Where I Am’, the first work of Flights (Eric Hillman, Brian Holl) is without doubt an as yet unsourced gem. It has the same isolated, intimate feel as Bon Iver’s ‘For Emma…’ (true to the influence, this album was also recorded in an abandoned area of Wisconsin) and a wealth of instrumentation that very few moden day albums can boast. Taking over a year to put together, it is something you play into the late hours, something you want to share with all your friends. One measly bandcamp donation later and I’m sharing with you one of the album’s stand-out efforts: ‘Where the Willow Tree Died’.
A haunting, beautifully shot video - more independent horror film than typical audiovisuals - accompanies Sara and Romy Lightman’s first effort taken from their second full-length, Ulalume. Heavy Sleep is a breathtaking slow waltz of a song, comprised of richly-applied organic instrumentation and sullen, vulnerable vocals. [JM]
An upbeat yet peculiarly delicate song, you just know ‘Jumping Ships’ is going to get lazily compared to Mumford and Sons somewhere down the line. Such comparisons be damned. There’s only a very slight similarity at best, and the best bit that if this Brighton group do make it big, this is the kind of song you won’t get sick of quickly. There are some gorgeous harmonies in there as well. All in all, this is an extremely promising start. The single’s out May 23rd, but for those of you who can’t wait that long, ‘Lover’s Note’ should do the trick:
Everything about Her Name Is Calla spells out their ambitious nature. They are a truly talented bunch of musicians whose style could be called as eccentric as it is beguiling. They are completely comfortable with multi-part epics, too: of ‘The Quiet Lamb”s running time, a whopping 75 minutes, two tracks account for just about half of the entire record.
Consider, too, the effort they have put into this release. Their packaging ideas are elaborate; the record was worked on extensively and planned for years; and a year was spent on simply producing, mixing and mastering it. Most other bands wouldn’t even dare to put this much time into their debut album.
Yes, we said debut album. Depending on who you ask in the band, this is either Calla’s second album (following on from ‘The Heritage’, which everyone else seems to refer to as an EP - with us so far?), or their first. We’re going to go with the second option, as this record seems a much more comprehensive listen than ‘The Heritage’ ever was.
Comprehensive, and exhausting. To put it plainly, ‘The Quiet Lamb’ is a stunning work, but it is a demanding listen, quite often wilfully obtuse and difficult. It opens with five minutes of ghostly piano that seems to lack any discernible melody; this is ‘Moss Giant’. It could be said to meander if it didn’t do such a great job of opening the record, immediately highlighting the sense of tension that runs through it.
Elements of slowcore can be heard in ‘A Blood Promise’ and ‘Pour More Oil’, tracks that unfold at an unhurried pace. They may seem rather quiet and uninteresting on first listen, but if you’re expecting instant results with any Her Name Is Calla material, kindly move along; nothing to see here. As they say themselves, they don’t take shortcuts.
Speaking of which, the album centrepiece is all of seventeen minutes long. ‘Condor and River’ builds from sparse beginnings into a combination of ominous guitars and soft drums, before this idea falls away as (relatively) quickly as it took hold. Then the listener is treated to what is arguably the most powerful part of the entire album. A steady crescendo heralds the full-force entry of the guitars and an all-too-brief explosion of noise. Soon, all is silent again as the song settles into its piano-led second movement, moving from unrestrained power to a fragility that is almost tangible.
‘Condor and River’ has been looked upon as the group’s crowning achievement, and it’s not difficult to see why. The album may seem to taper off after this, but it’s only because the second half requires even more perseverance. Ironically, it contains the most accessible song on the record, ‘Thief’. The album resumes its slow-burning course, taking the listener through ‘Long Grass’ and the brittle ‘Homecoming’, and finally to the record’s second interlude (which is in reality more similar to a coda for ‘Thief’), which brings us to the finale: a twenty-minute work in three movements, ‘The Union’.
Of its three parts, ‘Recidivist’ stands out the most, eight minutes of bracing feedback and jarring, stabbing chords in which the feeling of tension resurfaces again, creating the sense that the record is building up to a powerful finale. And it does: while on one side of ‘Recidivist’ we have ‘I Worship A Golden Sun’, with its surpisingly groovy feel, on the other we have the unadulterated, Wild West-influenced chaos of ‘Into the West’. Driving drums and some seriously complicated bass make themselves heard as ‘The Quiet Lamb’ - finally - sprints for the finish line.
The scope that the band display here is by equal measures awe-inspiring and terrifying. The album is an uncompromising listen from start to finish. It takes real willpower to even get through it, but its brilliance is revealed through repeated listens. It’s rare that an album requires this much effort - but then again it’s hard to think of one that’s quite as rewarding as this one is, certainly one released this year. Her Name Is Calla’s first full-length statement has arrived, and it is extraordinary.
Any music lover’s most likely said these exact words at some stage in their lives: “Why isn’t [band/artist] more well-known? They really should be!” Fans of Johnny Flynn and the Sussex Wit (to give his band some recognition) would seem to have more right to complain than others.
Over the last two-and-a-bit years, the London nu-folk scene’s picked up more plaudits than you could shake a stick at. Laura Marling picked up a Mercury for ‘Alas I Cannot Swim’, and Noah and the Whale and Mumford and Sons released albums last year, to acclaim and differing degrees of commercial success.
These three have overshadowed the rest to such an extent that they are refusing to budge and allow others to step into the limelight, which is disappointing. ‘Sigh No More’ is good, but the fact that it’s been whored around to within an inch of its life his ensured that many of us who fell from them in the first place have gone off them to various extents. It’ll be interesting to hear that second album, that’s for sure.
In the meantime, what you can do is enjoy ‘Been Listening’, Flynn and band’s second album. It’s not going to sell all that well (though we cannot fathom why; it’s accessible as they come, and quite consistent), certainly not in comparison to the aforementioned acts, but we’re of the opinion that it’s easily the equal of ‘Sigh No More’, and in many areas the better of the two.
An album like this is going to achieve critical acclaim, sure enough, but if ever there was a record that had the potential to be a sleeper hit, it would be ‘Been Listening’. Straight away, Flynn signifies that he’s not afraid to try new things; ‘Kentucky Pill’ has calypso overtones, and there’s a decent amount of brass in there, too. Musically it’s about as far as away from his debut (‘A Larum’) as you can get.
While it would suggest that he’s forsaken his folk roots, it’s misleading, as we are back into familiar territory with ‘Lost and Found’. Expansion and development are the order of the day on this album. Clarinets and muted strings envelop ‘Barnacled Warship’; ‘Sweet William, Part 2’ finds Flynn playing Marcus Mumford and company at their own game.
There are lots of ideas brought to fruition on ‘Been Listening’, but its highlight is the most stripped-back song on the album. The six-minute ‘Amazon Love’ is carried by a simple yet oddly affecting piano part, proving that Flynn’s every bit as comfortable with creating that kind of song as he is, say, writing upbeat, infectious folk-rock like ‘Agnes’. Those two songs sit side-by-side in the tracklisting, and are polar opposities, but provide a brilliant contrast.
With this record, diversity is the name of the game. From the tender balladry of the title track to the sumptuous climax that graces ‘The Prizefighter and the Heiress’, and everything in between, ‘Been Listening’ is a real treat, and rather unexpectedly so: it has staying power to burn, something that certain contemporaries can only dream about for now.
words: Jamie Milton originally scribed for MusicOMH
Multi-instrumentalist and integral component of alternative hip-hop darlings Why?,Josiah Wolf, has taken a step aside from his customary project and all of a sudden, has committed an album of his own. Jet Lag is produced by brother and Why? frontman Yoni Wolf, but its parts are constructed solely by Josiah, who will surprise many with his knack for writing open-minded folk songs with an autumnal charm.
There isn’t a great deal of difference between what’s fashioned on Jet Lag and say, Why?’s recent output: 2009’s Eskimo Snow, which deals with conveying the deep heartfelt emotions alongside a sound that comes from the most bitter cold, and Jet Lag thrives in the same environment.
However where Yoni Wolf’s tones pulse and guide the momentum of a song, Josiah is more of a gently-spoken storyteller, carrying a voice that flips from fragile and at breaking-point to one deep and resounding, perhaps resembling that of his brother’s. The vulnerability of said vocals assists the likes of Master Cleanse (California) and Is The Body Hung in sounding soft and tame; the tap-tap percussion; the dithering marimba patterns; the inviting guitar plucking, all combine beautifully with Josiah’s soothing narrative.
At times the method of songwriting borders on repetitive. Instead of pitting a catchy verse with an even catchier chorus, Wolf chooses to invite the listener in with an infectious hook - usually through an acoustic guitar - before breaking down the thin blanket of atmosphere and introducing something completely different, almost as if he’s lost his trail of thought, be it through boredom or a scatterbrained-deficiency. Either way, when you crave something more from Jet Lag, it tends to disappoint.
Skull In The Ice is an exception; perhaps the most tender of all the songs, it begins with a stripped-down strum and evolves in the chorus with a luscious, rich surrounding. It’s the sort of crescendo all these songs deserve, but the hungover-state of affairs that rings supreme in this record seldom allows for this to happen.
In truth, that whimsical, semi-conscious state of mind rarely hinders Jet Lag - in fact it tends to go arm-in-arm with Josiah’s tales of big cities and pretty girls very nicely. But any break in trend - such as through Ohioho: a sun-tinged, care-free, mid-afternoon anthem - is always welcomed, because this is the kind of album that weighs on you with repeated listens. It could do with taking notes from Ohioho, because it’s this ilk of uplifting, cacophonous sound that suits Why? and Josiah so well.
Nevertheless it’s refreshing to see an often unsung hero break out of his shell and prove himself to be an accomplished songwriter, and best of all, singer. And it strengthens the theory that Why? are a melting pot of talent, still with plenty more to offer.
