This 2007 live recording of Denmark’s Under Byen’s collaboration with renowned chamber orchestra Danish Radio Sinfonietta should come as no surprise to anyone already familiar with the Nordic post-rockers’ knack for the portentous and symphonic. Even on their own terms, the eight-member strong band is known for its classically-tinged epics that echo the ethereal and grandiose works of Sigur Rós, Mogwai, and Björk. But with a 42-piece classical orchestra backing them up, Under Byen’s already larger-than-life compositions are expanded to even loftier heights. The addition of the Sinfonietta brings new life to the band’s material, much in the same way it has previously reinvented the concertos of Schumann and Mozart. Though what’s odd about Siamesisk, and ultimately a bit disappointing, is its brief running-time and track selection. With only five songs, four of which are taken from the band’s last record (2006’s Samme Stof Som Stof), and rounding out at a paltry thirty minutes, it’s questionable why the band didn’t further exploit this unique opportunity to play with such a variety of talented musicians. It’s unfortunate that at the same moment the work as a whole swells and coalesces, the band is moments away from taking its final bows for the evening.
Category Archives: March 2008
Brad Turner Quartet
Small Wonder [Maximum Jazz]
Review By Pyra Draculea
It seems Vancouver’s multi-instrumentalist jazzman Brad Turner can do no wrong. Previous releases and collaborations from him have set the expectations pretty high, yet his work never fails to live up to and even exceed these. Small Wonder is no exception – right from the first notes of “Scuffle,” the listener is treated to dissonant chords and rising intensity that sets up and counters the joyful and triumphant trumpet lines throughout the piece. The album is a multi-layered exploration that, for all the complexity of its pieces, never once stumbles over the line where all this could become a cacophonous mess in less experienced and talented hands.
Despite the lack of vocals, this album’s songs do not lack storytelling. “You Can’t Be Serious” features a slightly melancholy trumpet seeming to converse with itself, perhaps pondering some weighty matter. This is a quartet, however, and Turner’s trumpet does not get all the plum dialogue, which is especially evident on the expansive “70 Mile,” with Bruno Hubert’s piano and André Lachance’s bass getting in on the conversation, in addition to their supporting roles. Drummer Dylan Van der Schyff gets his chance to really shine on the aptly named “Punchy.” The album wraps up with “Mourning Song,” a beautiful and enchanting piece that underlines the truth in the old quip that music is what happens between the notes as the phrases are given room to breathe.
Twilight Hotel
Highway Prayer [Independent]
Review By Katie Nanton
“Sounds like: ORIGINAL,” screams their MySpace page, so, let’s get the flattering comparisons to Ian and Sylvia, the descriptions of throaty Neko Case-like vocals out of the way. Twilight Hotel does not want to fall under another artist’s shadow. Done.
Wait. Does a movie comparison count? Anybody who has seen the 2007 film Once enjoyed the haunting duets of singer/songwriters-turned-actors Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova should warm to this disc almost automatically. Consider this: Brandy Zdan and Dave Quandbury are the duo behind Twilight Hotel and their recent release, Highway Prayer. They are a Winnipeg couple whose sound flirts with country twangs and errs on the side of folk. When these two perform duets (from the slowest of slow songs, “Sand in your Eyes,” to the folksy “Ballad of Salvador and Isabelle”), your skin will crawl with pleasure, guaranteed. Full of soul and emotion, the members of Twilight Hotel belt out lyrics like they mean it. (Not to mention, Quandbury is bearded, fair-haired and sings the softest of songs with strength, uncannily like Hansard in Once). When Zdan lazily murmurs “cigarette smoke has stained the walls from years gone by,” it has the depth of aged whiskey and pulses with sexiness and tension. To top it all off, they are in love—in real life, that is. And if you don’t think it’s possible to hear that in a song, flip to track 12 of Highway Prayer.
Kate Maki
On High [Confusion Unlimited]
Review By Katie Nanton
Once in a while a tomato is best tasted fresh, cut up, all by itself; sometimes tea soothes best without milk or sugar. Kate Maki is this relief. The Sudbury, Ontario native has a pure, uncluttered voice and style best complemented with a dash of piano, a strum of acoustic guitar, and a little wurlitzer.
Clean-cut, summertime-simple lyrics (“White lines, black signs, jump the track, jump the tree”) shower the album with a quaint, sing-song vibe, and strike a resemblance to Kimya Dawson’s addictive indie folk tracks off the Juno soundtrack (just listen closely to Maki’s duet, “Badminton Racquet”). Rest assured, this simplicity doesn’t mean Maki lacks a sense of fun—the album is far from boring. On the upbeat “To Please,” she enlists the help of an optigan, bottles and train whistles to jitterbug in the background. Opening track “Highway” (one of the strongest) is catchy from first listen, and “Beyond The Sun” whines beautifully while teases her lover bitterly, “Are we happy now?” With help from her producer, talented Arizona singer, songwriter and pianist Howe Gelb, Maki’s latest album shines with professional execution and playful charisma—like a perfectly unsweetened iced tea on a hot Ontario day.
House of Doc
East of West [Independent]
Review By Miné Salkin
Hailing from Winnipeg, House of Doc’s third album East of West celebrates love, life, and Canadian sensibilities in a lighthearted, amusing fashion.
Upbeat, folksy and altogether jovial, this album provokes the sunnier side of everything mundane and shifts the emphasis to family life, escaping the plight of urban noise and reverting to a frugal, simple sound. This feeling is furthered by the familial relation between the members; the group is made up of Matthew Harder, his wife Rebecca and her brother, Dan Wiebe. At first listen, one cannot help but draw parallels to the soundtrack to film O Brother, Where Art Thou, but a version more preoccupied by Canadian landscape. Tracks like “Summerstone” and “Milk and Cookies” are brimming with an optimism that can only be backed by the sounds of harmonicas and banjos. However, the album as a whole is more profound; in particular, “Simple Times” is a song recorded in one single and immaculate take.
Flanked by stripped down, lyrical tunes, East of West has an honest, human quality about it that is only truly appreciated by the humbled. Rebecca Harder croons hypnotically in “Lullaby,” giving it a soulful and melodic contrast to some of their more upbeat, bluegrass tracks. Also, the final track brings the album full circle with a secret song that is definitely worth the wait.
Threat From Outer Space
Bleeding the Dying Elephant [konseptikon rekords]
Review By Andrea Warner
Threat From Outer Space label their live show as a ‘barn-burning dance floor graveyard” and damned if they don’t make the energy transcend the boundaries of stereo speakers, bursting through with the shoulder-bobbing, booty-shaking new album, Bleeding the Dying Elephant. The five-piece from East Vancouver take elements of rap, hip-hop and indie pop and set them against a grand backdrop of humming, synthesized beats and grand flourishes of trumpet. The sound is familiar to more mainstream fare, but the unique rhythms keep things fresh. One of the album’s best tracks, “I’ll Get Over,” brings on the funk with searing trumpets while another stand out; “Beginning of the End,” the album’s closing track, brings the volume down with a voice that’s almost a dark whisper, before flaring into a full-bodied chorus layered with electronics. “5:40 AM” is exactly the kind of song you want to end the party on with its slow groove and subtly suggestive beat. “Stay Awake” offers sinfully slow bass and an awesome Q & A chorus to counteract the track’s sing-speak resonance. Even the lyrically tired “Guesswork,” which is a recycled groaner like “9/11 was an inside job,” can’t mute the pulsing beats and charming brass that pushes the song from mediocre to good. “Worldwide” attempts to highlight the global intricacies of war, environment and poverty—it’s pretty far-reaching, and at times feels more like a sermon than a solution or exploration, but at least it’s thought provoking. Threat From Outer Space’s socialist approach to making music lists the “key players” in the band, but doesn’t isolate the contributions. It’s just one more oddly confounding detail about this East Side gem.
Listening Party
Who Are We Missing? [Kill Devil Hills]
Review By Lucy Lynch
Though they became an official band in 2005, the members of this up-and-coming Shawnigan Lake-based three-piece have been jamming together since 2000—and it shows on their recent release. Reminiscent of hot days by the lake and chilly nights on the beach huddled around a campfire, Listening Party’s Who Are We Missing? is surely one of best folk/rock records of 2008. Joined by Victoria’s Run Chico Run on vocals and some bang-a-rang-ing good African drum beats on several tracks, you can only imagine starry nights of collaborative, musical majestry resonating across the entire lake; like a wild bird call, it lures all the wild creatures, underwater sea beasts, Ogopogos, Bigfoots, Yetis and local fisherman to the shining shimmering fiery light for a full-on pow-wow. No, these are not your typical “Kumbayas” and golden-brown roasted marshmallows, these are the kind of dudes mixing graham crackers, chocolate chips and Kraft Jet Puffs, playing slow melodic tunes like “Song and Sea,” followed by foot-stomping lyrical mind warps like “Sky Hopping,” and bad-ass love ballads like “Sweet Roseanna.” Yup, everything about these guys rules. And their name could not embody their purpose more, because this band definitely makes for a good, well, listening party.
Jon and Roy
Another Noon [Independent]
Review By Andrea Warner
Jon and Roy’s new album is reminiscent of great folk music like Simon and Garfunkel or Cat Stevens. Another Noon is a quiet and engaging companion to a day spent inside watching the rain fall or drinking coffee while holding hands with someone adorable. The album’s opening track, also doubling as the album’s title, is an engaging little ditty with “DT Stylee” on handclaps—a winner every time. The countrified “Little Bit of Love” is a foot-stomping charmer. The entire percussion section comes out in “Moonlight,” and the guitar sounds like a literal interpretation of someone moseying down a backcountry road. On “Long Road”, moseying gives way to galloping horses. “Thanks For That” offers a lovely and bittersweet lilting shrug. The interesting give and take between Jon’s voice and his guitar contrasts nicely with Roy’s restrained percussion. If anything, the guitar is sometimes too omnipresent, almost obliterating Jon’s voice on several tracks. However, the biggest criticism Another Noon might face is the “sameness” of the songs—they’re not terribly distinguishable from each other on first or third listen.
That said, the disc is consistent and cohesive—there’s not a single song that feels out of place. Throughout, the guitar and drum offer something quick, like feet skipping, and it’s easy to imagine Another Noon scored across a cheeky and poignant independent film. Almost every song gives the illusion of moving forward while looking fondly behind you. The implied motion somehow provokes happy feelings, the album’s very quaintness catching on like a smile.
The Pickups
Country Houses, City Streets [Beautifully Misguided Records]
Review By Miné Salkin
Finally! A band so incredibly emo, but without a single pretentious member with that awful, downward bent head gesture and shaggy hair covering one eye. Described as “flaneur-pop,” the Pickups are lovely in a minimalist, micro-pop, fuzzy soft drink kind of way. Touching on ideas like random childhood memories, first loves and nostalgic neighbourhoods, songs such as “Augusta” and “Country Houses” truly capture those fleeting memories that bring up the sentimentality of youthful idealism. The track “Compromise” immediately brings to mind a casual walk in a park, or a moment of unbridled honesty. The modest sound of Country Houses, City Streets seems to invoke a feeling of unguarded lightheartedness. In particular, “Country Houses” brings the whole introspective sentimentality to the forefront, not unlike a marriage between Belle and Sebastian of the Apples in Stereo, discussing notions of lost loves and regret. The lyrical component to the Pickups adds to their appeal tremendously. Lines like “There are those hard to love hard to leave/and the people I love keep on loving me back” spur this overwhelming sympathy and universal understanding that living in a city isn’t easy. Ultimately, the Pickups illustrate the most common human interactions, but in a modest, poetically minimalist way—it’s their honesty and nonreactionary apathy that will make its way into your heart.
The Feminists
Can’t Scream Loud Enough [Independent]
Review By Mark Hewitt
Local popsters The Feminists are a “21st century rock band,” and accordingly, the sleeve of their third album, Can’t Scream Loud Enough, sports a transparent neon ferris wheel of sorts, and—with clever irony—the track list (for this compact disc) is split into a decidedly un-futuristic Side One and Side Two. While there are throwbacks to early Elvis Costello, it sounds more like the work of recent power pop bands like Built to Spill and fellow Vancouverites The New Pornographers, only less guitar-oriented and more about the organ and piano. Yet despite their anxious pace, most of the tunes soldier far beyond the three-minute template that you might expect.
Futuristic, yes, but it’s also very ambitious, and promising songs such as “The Beginning of the World” and “How to Kill A Country” wear thin quickly, as the repetition (and stifling hi-fi production) renders loveable melodies plastic and tedious. Quieter, more concise nuggets stand out: “Goodnight, Irene” starts as a McCartney-esque piano number and becomes a heartwarming brew of gospel harmonies and mellow country. Frontman Keith Grief catches a bobbing head off guard with his scathing commentary. “No One Gets Out Of This World Alive” displays a knack for balancing catchy music with bitter nihilism: the key lyric, “Everyone is all the same,” becomes a sinister chant, without alienating all of that bright pop underneath. It is this kind of edge, found all over the record, that lends Can’t Scream Loud Enough a poetic third dimension.