Tag Archives: Americana

10.08.18
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Michael Nau – Michael Nau & The Mighty Thread

I miss my headphones. When I was working back in England, I never travelled anywhere without my Sennheisers. Comfy to wear, I got through many train rides to far-flung towns by simply putting them over my ears and allowing myself to drift away.

My headphones half-broke quite early in my Spanish travels. They still work and it’s probably nothing that a good coating of super-glue wouldn’t fix properly. The foam cushion has detached from the ear-speaker thing. I have to hunch my neck a bit now if I want the full headphone listening experience.

And mostly there’s no need for them over here. The villa is so remote from others that there’s little risk of complaint should I turn my speakers up to 11. I enjoy the peace and quiet and listening to the sounds of nature but when I need to blast music out it seems to impact upon nobody. 

In cases of emergency, I have a pair of Apple earplugs. They’ve improved since the early I-pod days and slot into my ears quite neatly. I couldn’t wear them for long periods of time though. 

This weekend, I’ve been listening to Michael Lau’s latest album through them. It’s a dreamy, reverb-laden Country soul thing. There’s a sort of laconic fuzz that drifts across the album and it draws you in. You want to get closer to the action, to hear the vocals and the pedal-steel close up, and headphones become a natural choice. 

Lyrically, it’s a record open to interpretation. The best I can deduce is that Michael feels on the edge of something. In the Autumnal ‘Shadow On’, the second tune on the disk, that something is hanging by a thread, the final leaves are falling and you wonder if Michael Nau and The Mighty Thread might be setting itself up as a break-up album. 

But as the album progresses, there are signs that whatever has been failing has turned a corner. “The shit from here on in isn’t going to be so hard”, he sings on No Faraway Star as the mood of the record lightens. The reconciliation continues during ‘On Ice’, a highlight of the album and a song about separate beds and the power of the lampshade in fixing what has gone before. 

“Could you let me help you smile?” asks Michael on ‘Funny Wind’ and you sense that the journey is nearly complete before album closer (and another highlight), ‘Smudge’, throws a bit more doubt into the mix with lines like ‘walking together, walking apart’ and ‘another sinking boat’. That all builds towards the final lyric of the record, “waiting for something to never end“. And you realise that this is probably the point of the record. 

Life drifts; there are few clear-cut beginnings and endings. That’s the preserve of films and books. For the rest of us, we wander, often aimlessly, through things. We’re curious about our future and reminiscent about our pasts. We’re all ‘waiting for something to never end’. 

 

04.25.18
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Shelter – Stephen Karl and Handsome Animals

It’s raining in Alicante today. At one point, for about five minutes, it came down quite heavily. But, for the most part, this is the sort of rain that might register as light drizzle back in England. When I meandered back from language school this afternoon, people were sheltering in doorways or tentatively reviewing their instructions for putting up barely-used umbrellas. I took some delight in openly walking in the rain. I’m hardened to the extremes it seems. 

But the rain has served to quell my exploratory spirit. I’ve spent the afternoon drinking breakfast tea whilst eating tomatoes, cheese and bread. Instead of wandering around this fine city, I’ve been listening to music that’s been sent my way. I’ve barely scratched the surface. 

There’s a lot of great music being released but this track, Shelter, by Stephen Karl and Handsome Animals caught my ear on this rainy day.

“My heroes are Prince, Springsteen, Tom Waits, Townes Van Zandt”, says Stephen, clearly a man with fine taste. “A lot of these tunes that were written around this time deal with romantic relationship struggles: ‘Shelter’ is an honest story of a relationship that is failing, but it does it in an honest, compassionate, and not-too maudlin way by acknowledging what I’m experiencing, and what I love about the woman I’m losing, and how I basically do want the best for her.”

Sonic Breakfast thinks it’s a belter of a tune; the exact sort of Americana that sends us all wobbly and quivery. Stephen has a rich voice that digs away into your brain whilst his quality musicians burrow into your body.

 

 

Shelter is one of four songs on a split EP with another New York based act, Darlin Darlin. Perhaps in future Sonic Breakfast blogposts I’ll feature them. Cyndi, the other track from Stephen Karl and Handsome Animals on the EP is also a cracker, especially for those of us who like story-songs.

“I wanted to present a fun story, and ‘Cyndi’ is that—about a night when I was 25 and got a kiss from Cyndi Lauper,”, says Stephen about this track whilst men and women of a certain age fight back the feelings of envy. 

 

 

11.09.16
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Curse Of Lono – Saturday Night

On balance, it was probably a good thing that the gig I was due to go to on Monday night was cancelled. It’s been a hectic sort of non-stop week, one in which sleep has been at a premium, so another late night watching headliners, Uncle Lucius, and support, Curse Of Lono, might have been pushing these weary bones too far. 

But, there’s no getting away from the disappointment. I was sent a promo copy of the Curse Of Lono EP, Saturday Night, a couple of weeks ago and the four tunes on it have rapidly become favourites when driving in my car. On a recent trip to Liverpool, I listened over and over again to this distinct mix of Americana, siphoned through a seedy London backstreet. Passengers in the car chuckled over the perversities voiced within the title track whilst I was drawn to the skewed sadness and sentiment of ‘He Takes My Place’.

I had some vague knowledge of Hey Negrita, the previous band that the founder of Curse Of Lono, Felix Bechtolsheimer, had spent years being involved with. Back in the day, before I wrote about music, I’d seen them at festivals and gigs. At De Montfort Hall and The Big Session Festival, I’d watched them perform before heading back to the beer tent and nearly missing my own compere duties.

Here was a blog post waiting to happen.

But I held back a bit. I was aware that each of the EP tracks were also being used within a short, accompanying film. The trailer for ‘Saturday Night’, directed by Alex Walker, looked gripping. Cinematic, dramatic and loaded with debauched crime, the indications were that this was going to be a fine vehicle to elevate already great songs to another level.

On staggered release across some fine blogs, each of the videos have now been uploaded to Youtube. Watch carefully and visual clues help you to follow the ongoing plot. Despite the lack of dialogue, you can follow the characters through to a satisfying denouement in the final video. The path mightn’t be linear and the story not always obvious but, for me, that sense of crippling confusion and slow-motion thoughtfulness makes the music crisper.

It’s a bold statement doing things this way. There are no half measures here. Pull up a chair, sit back and open the popcorn. 

I’m sure that, after watching this, you’ll be like me in checking future Curse Of Lono tour dates and desperately hoping they reschedule that gig. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

01.26.16
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Stevie Jones and The Wildfires – This Is My Church

I first met Stevie Jones at one of the Oysterband’s Big Session festivals at De Montfort Hall. I blagged a compering slot in the beer tent, despite having very little qualities to fulfil such a role. I suppose I was, at least, energetic, friendly and a good advert for how drunk the ale in the tent might get you. 

 

Stevie (along with his long term musical collaborator, Mark Gill) was one of the acts that I introduced. I remember that he was so enthused about this experience. It was easy to banter and joke with Stevie. He seemed to have an encyclopaedic knowledge about music and conveyed that with charm and good grace. 

When he played on stage, there was a definite ‘Americana’ angle to his art. This was a time when magazines such as ‘Uncut’ were piling praise on the likes of Ryan Adams and Stevie was clearly drawing influence from that. 

Since that introduction, I’ve got to know Stevie a little better. It’s mostly true that the music scene here in Leicester and its immediate beyond is one where we all try our best to encourage and support each other. It’s a broad church, not always devoid of schisms, but for the most part we all get on. There’s very few who do more to achieve that than Stevie. A tireless promoter, performer and supporter of live music, it’s always a joy to randomly turn up at one of my local pubs to be entertained by his acoustic performance. 

Following a successful pledger’s ‘soft release’ last autumn, Stevie will launch his new album nationally this spring. Recorded with his full band, The Wildfires, ‘Stratigraphic Heart’ is a collection of very personal songs. The title track of the album brings his love of archaeology to the fore; the forthcoming digital single, ‘This Is My Church’ gives insights into Stevie’s life via glimpses of the music he’s loved and the experiences he’s had. 

He’ll be playing shows across the East Midlands and further afield to support this launch. In a world where karma should rule, it’s well worth giving something back to Stevie.

01.09.16
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Dusty Stray – Blood Trail

I’m reminded that, back in the chaos of 2015, I was sent a video from Dusty Stray’s new record. I was also sent a link to that album, ‘A Tree Fell And Other Songs’, which was being released early in November.

I exchanged some E-mails with Jonathan Brown, the incredible talent behind Dusty Stray and confirmed that I was definitely going to write about ‘Blood Trail’ on Sonic Breakfast. But then, the stuff of life got in the way and I stopped updating my blog.

I say to all who’ll listen that it was a perfectly treatable skin cancer without really stopping to think about the effect it had on my head in those Autumn months. As the trees became bare so did my cupboards.

Born in Taiwan, Jonathan Brown grew up in Texas as a son of a preacher man. Raised on songs about death and resurrection, he began writing his own songs taking influence from early American folk music. Travel, dead end relationships and forming freak folk bands led him to a place where he’s now based in the Netherlands. Jonathan curated the recent SnowApple video that I featured in my Sonic Breakfast Top Ten of 2015.

A Tree Fell And Other Songs, the fourth full-length Dusty Stray release, was written in a small, lone trailer in the flatlands of Holland alongside the dead end of a river. The twelve original songs illustrating “dead end” relationships flow into one another in a natural, organic way. It’s a fine listen if you want to indulge in a bit of melancholy. 

‘Blood Trail’ has a haunting, memorable lilt. It’s almost got the feel of a murder ballad save for the fact that nobody dies. I asked Jonathan what the song was about: – 

“It’s all about a somewhat traumatic childhood memory of when I was about 7 or 8 playing in the dirt/mud along our driveway — making some kind of “castle” or something — and some neighborhood kid came along and completely destroyed it. I was so angry that I picked up a nearby brick and threw it at him hitting him in the head and causing a lot of bleeding and screaming. He turned out to be ok — didn’t even need stitches — but the image of that little blonde-haired kid suddenly blood red-haired sitting on our kitchen counter while my mom was helping him is still with me. And I think that was my first and last violent act…”

I love this. Have a happy weekend SB readers. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

01.04.16
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The Ramisco Maki Maki Rocking Horse – Holy Barnacles

I was delighted to receive an E-mail from The Ramisco Maki Maki Rocking Horse a week or so before Christmas. 

The E-mail began:- 

‘Holler Sean, how be yo’self? 

These here hooves were just over at the Fresh on the Net Listening Post and I noticed you thew my hooves a vote for that there Holy Barnacles ditty o’ mine, mighty kind of you captain, these here hooves sure appreciate the support. Anyways, I thought I might yodel forth and make acquaintance, throw you a copy of the EP and such. ‘

This was no ordinary press release and I immediately warmed to Ramisco, the horse.

It was true that earlier that weekend I’d been enjoying the Fresh On The Net listening post. One of the stand out tracks had been Holy Barnacles, a short and sweet, banjo-fuelled, cowboy country stomp. I was hooked before the drinking/thinking couplet but that cemented my admiration.

I confess I was a tad surprised to discover that the man behind The Ramsico Maki Maki Rocking Horse was not some nutty, grizzled American from Austin, Texas but a Scottish Highlander, Ray McCartney, with his own label, Planet Groucho records. It was on this label that the EP, Possessed by the Gods of Cowbell Oblongata, was released back in November. It’s a fabulously inventive record, deliciously offbeat with quirky twists and casio-punk turns. 

It’s exactly the sort of release that I first set up Sonic Breakfast for. I’m sure regular readers will approve.

 

 

12.17.15
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Richmond Fontaine – Wake Up Ray

It must be a dozen years now since I first heard Richmond Fontaine. They were the flavour of the day in a magazine that I regularly read. I’d just moved into a little flat in the centre of the city. I worked from that flat and bought lots of CDs from the local record shop to stop myself from getting lonely. 

At night, I’d go to a bar just around the corner and drink. I never had much to get up early for and I enjoyed the company.

Different continent but similar desperation, I found something in the roaming bleakness of your typical Richmond Fontaine song. Their album, Post To Wire, was played a lot that year. Laced with dark humour and pedal steel guitar, this became the soundtrack to my summer. Here was an offer of particularly effective comedown music once the effects of the ecstasy and whisky had worn off.

When a local promoter put them on to play at the Music Cafe, it was a gig I had to go to. It was incredible. Willy Vlautin was a new Springsteen; his poetry and storytelling came from that place that Bukowski occupied; desolate drinkers and pawn fuelled paupers were his characters of choice. I got them to sign a poster for a good friend who had a birthday coming up. In conversation, they were true gents. 

Since then life has moved on. It had to. I bought a house and tidied up my act a little (some would contest this). I’ve continued to follow Richmond Fontaine although I don’t think I’ve played subsequent albums as much as I did with ‘Post To Wire’ that summer. I’ve read Willy Vlautin’s novels and envied the tautness of his prose.

I’m happy to see that they’ve got a new album coming out in March 2016.  Décor Records are releasing ‘YOU CAN’T GO BACK IF THERE’S NOTHING TO GO BACK TO’ , their first in five years. 

Willy Vlautin says this about the album “This record was written for all the guys we know who have hit the wall, are about to hit the wall, or are in the middle of slamming into it, It’s a record about paying the price for the way one’s lived.  All of us in Richmond Fontaine are at the age where the bill starts coming due for the decisions we’ve made along the way.”

It might be a record made for me. They’ve pre-released a tune from it and I’m delighted to share it here on Sonic Breakfast. 

 

 

 

 

03.10.15
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Embleton – It Did Me Well

“Though my record may say it, no-one will play it’ ‘cos sad songs and waltzes aren’t selling this year“, sings Kevin Embleton in the refrain of the one cover version on his new, incredible album, ‘It Did Me Well’. And you wonder if Embleton might be resigned to the fact that few will hear this gem of an Americana album that’s out this week. It would be a crying shame if that were the case.

Yes, there’s a fair dowsing of sadness within ‘It Did Me Well’. We’re thrown straight into that theme in the opening title track. This is about leaving, being on the run, cancer and illness. Those themes are emphasised from a different perspective in ‘Leavin’ For Good’. “When I heard that you were leaving, with a one way pass, I tied myself to a railroad track”, sings Embleton in an anguished vocal style perfect for such sentiment. It doesn’t get any happier on one of my favourite tracks of the record ‘She’s Not There’ in which Embleton imagines a happy time; a time driving to meet parents with a girlfriend in his car. He looks towards the passenger seat and she’s no more than a memory.

But, to write this album off as pure sadness and loss overlooks the strand of redemption that sometimes surfaces. The guy who’s running away for much of ‘It Did Me Well’ does appear to find some kind of uneasy satisfaction at the end of the song as he returns home to the place he left; and in ‘Only Begun’, we’re given a snapshot of a new relationship in which running away and leaving is far from mind. “Take our time, we were meant to, meet my eyes, we’ll be fine”, sings Embleton in a break from the sad songs.

I asked Kevin Embleton for an entertaining story. He replied with this: – “So, we recorded the album live in our engineer’s living room. We all had jobs at the time, so we would get together around 6:30 pm to practice and then see if we could record a track all at once. We were often tired after a long day of work, and so it was pretty slow going. We took breaks often and tried to keep things light. We were back in the living room/studio trying to lay down a track one evening after a few of us had taken a smoke break on the porch. Everything was going smoothly, in fact I thought for sure this take was the one, until our studio drummer Matt Kurtz stopped playing. It took me a minute to figure out what was going on, but finally I heard him say “The porch is on fire!” He hopped out of his throne and went out to the porch. The bucket that we threw our cigarette butts in had caught on fire and was making quite the sight. We eventually put it out and got back to tracking, but somewhere in the archives of our pro-tools sessions is someone yelling “The porch is on fire!” So that’s a story about a time smoking cigarettes ruined a potentially beautiful track. We all had a good laugh about it though.”

Musically, this is an album that’s drenched in Americana roots. It does stray away from the slide guitar and Alt-Country pangs from time to time but never to such a degree that the flow of the album jars. The songwriting stands out and pushes this above records coming from a similar place. There’s a laidback lilt at play here that draws the listener in and then refuses to let you out. It’s beautiful, tender and well worth investigating.

Let’s see if we can get ‘sad songs’ (and some hints of happy ones) selling this year. You cen find out how to get Embleton’s new album “It Did Me Well” on their Official Website .

 

 

 

 

 

11.15.14
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Sam Baker – Camden Dingwalls – November 10th

“I couldn’t remember nouns. I called knives and forks things. One day I could hear and the next day I was deaf”.

It’s in this way that Sam Baker describes the days and weeks that followed a Peruvian train bombing that he was lucky to survive. He talks about the little German boy who was sat opposite him when the bomb, placed in a luggage rack above their heads, exploded. “He wasn’t so lucky; I don’t have the right to complain.”

We’re into the second half of the set when Sam tells this life-changing tale from his past. It’s a well-honed tale now but, even if you’ve heard it before, you can’t help but be caught up in the overwhelming surge of emotion that accompanies its delivery. This show at Camden Dingwalls is in two parts and, by his own admission, “you’re going to look back at the first set and say, man, that was a happy set.” It’s all comparative of course. Sam only has one ‘love song’; the rest of his tunes are all dowsed with a downbeat Americana; these are songs about cotton production in God-fearing lands, sparsely arranged and hauntingly told.

For much of these two sets, Sam is joined on stage by Carrie Elkin and Chip Dolan. Chip is the quieter one of the three, a multi-instrumentalist who lets his skills on keyboard, guitar, accordion and vocal harmony do the talking; Carrie is more energetic in her chat. When she sings (or whistles) you get that hushed sense across the audience that only comes when witnessing something stunning. Standing metres from her mic, Carrie knows how to squeeze every drop of emotion from the purity of her vocal.

“Is anybody in the room more newly married than 16 days?“, asks Sam early in the set. Carrie raises her hand and we celebrate her newfound wedded bliss. Sam tells us that he was the wedding officiant and that Carrie’s husband, Danny, remains in the U.S. “This is the weirdest honeymoon ever,” pines Carrie. There’s an over-riding sense of friendship within the room.

This warm friendship and good-natured humour always acts as a counter-balance to the more serious song matter that’s being conveyed. Much is made of the fact that this is the 11th show of this ‘Say Grace’ tour. It’s number eleven because this is the eleventh time ever that Carrie has played the accordion. She picks it up for one tune and plays a note perfect, basic melody. We know she’s learning and the smiles are generous. Sam refers to his album that made the top ten Rolling Stone country albums of the year. “It was just behind Keith Urban – he’s now married to Nicole Kidman,” says Sam by way of comparison. You sense, though, that he’s playing at envy and he wants to be nowhere else but here, in this Monday moment, on a stage in North London.

When you’ve lived a life and experienced the extremes in the way that Sam Baker has, you probably do have a heightened sense of the need to make every moment count. Tonight, at Camden Dingwalls, the audience were given a gentle nudge towards doing the same. This show cannot fail to have a pure, positive impact. You never know what’s around the corner and how your life might change forever.