Modern Standard - Kevin Tihista

Unpicking the influences of Kevin Tihista is like opening the encyclopedia of sunshine pop if such a book existed (which it should). His musical tweets point to a love of power pop, straight-ahead '70s soft rock and big ballads - basically anything with a yearning melody. This new album prostrates itself at the feet of these influences and embellishes the addictive melodies with lush guitar solos draped in gold-leaf arrangements and a mid-summer haze of feeling good/ feeling bad/ feeling jealous with lyrics that startle and surprise.

There is an undisguised confessional aspect to his songs, an inward-looking sense of under-achievement and frustration - if only the world would change then everything would be OK. But this disdainful world view is couched in a nonchalance and spontaneity that comfortably overrides any atmosphere of negativity.  A very real sense of the person behind these songs begins to emerge - not all of it pleasant - but the naive romanticism, the lush pianos and the rich, golden hues of the production provide a gloss and a sheen which imbue a truly timeless quality to these songs. The arrangements build layer upon opulent layer to the point they seem ready to burst only to be punctured, for example, by Tihista's uncontrolled lust for his girlfriend's "beautiful ass" ('Sequisha Chiungade Picante').

Elsewhere, 'Happy People, Shut Your Mouths' is the finest lyric Morrissey has yet to write - a tirade of self pity but with a choral backing that elevates it to a song of infinite wisdom; 'You Don't Make Sense' begins with a murky guitar figure that gently gives way to a pulsing disco beat and then to an addictive electric guitar which screams 'SUN' and 'BEACH' - even though Tihista is in the process of dumping a girlfriend, maybe just because of her broken English; 'On My Way' could be straight out of the Fred Neil song book - a cheery optimistic closer in which Tihista appears to be finally taking responsibility - the synth hook emerges mid-song (and doesn't go away) like a carefully-crafted Richard Carpenter masterpiece, except it has a throwaway feel which had me listening repeatedly, in awe at how it could sound so immediate yet so rooted in conventional songwriting. I've since re-visited Matthew Sweet's 'Girlfriend' and experienced a similar feeling.

'Modern Standard' appears to be a collection of old songs which Tihista has been looking to release for some time. It's unlikely to make many end of year lists (except mine) which typically crave innovation and originality. I would argue that these songs stretch an already sophisticated songwriting template, revealing themselves as examples of perfectly crafted modern pop with a lyrical twist that absolutely sets them apart from and above anything of its kind I've heard for a very long time.

http://www.brokenhorse.co.uk/

New England paradigm shift - Nat Lyon

It's been nearly a year since I wrote about Nat Lyon and his first album, LCRV

http://swiftysteve.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/nat-lyon.html

Listening to his music heralds an inner articulation. Unformed and half assembled thoughts seem to be granted words. It's not that I can't think for myself, but it's as if an interior spatial void is carefully formed into which ladders of sound and then syllable are placed and constructed. I find myself climbing and arriving at a point slightly more enlightened than from where I'd started - a bit like deep meditation - more connected with my true qualities, less burdened by acquired falsities. His music is a decent template for how to live a life - honest, unflinching, fearless, compassionate. That I can use his music so is his gift and my privilege.

And musically he's very smart indeed and this latest album takes him further on his obsessive journey of introspection, immersed in his inner and outer environment. It's an album that demands to be listened to in sequence and in its entirety. LCRV was a compelling collection of songs challengingly presented in awkward arrangements, daring the listener to give it more time. New England paradigm shift still makes a feature of Lyon's mood swings but this time there's a gloss coat of studio sheen to buff up the more holistic vision of what he wants to say. This is a proper album, so ordered that the listener ends almost where they began - on an interstate hell - but, like Lyon, in a fitter mental state having made the journey.

It is deeply rooted in the New England environment, inspired by daily observations as Lyon goes about his business. His trick is to combine his internal and external worlds, a deep thinker who keeps his eyes open and focused on where he wants to be (usually at sea), yet still able to communicate his disorientation with a minor chord here, a profanity there. Despite this, gratitude bubbles close to the surface and a slow swell of a major key melody or crunchy guitar chord will sometimes overwhelm the doubt, only to recede again.

Track by track

1. For People In Cars On I-95
"Don't want to die on 95..." - quite a statement to kick off the album (repeated). The thing is he has no intention of doing so but the whispered vocals set the sinister tone, and a surge of drum brushes slowly gives way to a Psycho style synth as it fades out. If your only thought at the end of this track is 'what the fuck...?' that's fine, just hang on in there.

2. Gin And Visions
To a vague Teardrop Explodes' vocal backing ('Passionate Friend'). Lyon takes us on one of his many weird journeys. The buzz saw guitar that overpowers any hint of melody betrays his love of English punk and I think the Buzzcocks would make a stunning version of this, should they ever get to hear it.

3. Boat Wright's Daughter.
This sounds like a conversation with a family member acted out in a dream. It's a tender vocal and I'm reminded not for the first time of Wayne Coyne's voice, but without the attendant ego.

4. Field Notes From Eastern Uplands
One of the more 'produced' tracks, the jagged guitar and circular drum pattern eventually succumb to an ethereal passage of near silence. The song develops the ever present theme of pioneering - travelling without destination - as if Lyon's Mason/Dixon instinct is colliding with a deep yearning for security and familiarity.

5. Pitched
Time to feel sea sick, the acoustic guitar stabilises the vocals and other instruments which pitch back and forth, drums that detonate like distant thunder - "a panic attack made me jump from the ship, and I swam away". He's doing a geographical and as always in such cases the running away is from himself and towards  - not away from  - his demons.

6. Fox Sighting (1)
Lyon's cynicism is endearing (no really). Who knows if this is a real fox (it doesn't matter). He's taking comfort from his art, and who can blame him.

7. Spoke
Car crashes, adventuring, the sea...the sea. This is one of the most satisfying tracks, a beautiful Bunnymen coming together of guitars that ballast the lyrical fragility in which the author seeks out familiar things, as the world spins out of control around him.

8. Nav Chart
"Someday I'll be the sand between your toes" - more an admission of respect than a threat, this track gets to the heart of Lyon's pre-occupations. It's the most conventional arrangement of the album - a ballad, even. The outward quest as metaphor for inner journey may be imagined, but which is the most real....the answer itself is in the seeking.

9. Coefficients
Emperor X's understated production imbues this with a Grandaddy feeling of power and portent. It may be another search for identity - Lyon's reliance on broken instruments is world weary but heartening - "me and you" (to fade) might be another human being or just the Brunton compass with a broken mirror.

10. Fox Sighting (2)
A re-working of track 6, with a ghostly backing of nocturnal noise and guitar echo, like an inner conversation or prayer. Lyon seems to be tackling life's grey areas by speaking to the fox in his head.

11. Ex Anthro
With a Mark Linkous depth of sincerity, this character study may or may not be autobiographical. It's laced with darkness and curious images (over-granulated snow). The sparseness indulges the electric guitar and the feeling, at the end, is that the retired anthropologist may have just gone and topped himself.

12.Paradigm Shift
Full circle ,we're lulled by a sensitive guitar figure and he seems happy in his Monday morning routine. A day in the life of Nat Lyon, though, and things aren't so simple. I-95 beckons but I get the feeling that by Tuesday he's let go of Monday's wrinkles - maybe that's the paradigm shift. The noise that consumes the song towards the climax of the album is either in his head or a bona fide train wreck - an ambiguous and very human ending to a very human record.

http://natlyon.bandcamp.com/

Power Pop

A short while back I was lucky enough to host the @thelostrecord Twitter account for a week and  had the complete pleasure of  assembling a selection of Power Pop, the genre that fuses guitars, melodies and attitude into, usually, around three minutes of compressed sunshine. From The Barracudas via Dwight Twilley and Matthew Sweet to Cheap Trick, I could (and do) live off this stuff.

                                               

                                 
                                           

                                             
                                       

                                               

                                          
                                       
                                       

         
                                                           

                   
                                             

                               
                                         

                                         


                                   

                                         

                                               

                                         

                                       

                                                                    

         

The Voltaires

Libertarian, free-thinker, scourge of intolerance -  Voltaire embodies many of the values deemed in short supply these days. He wasn't quite the 18th Century subversive many think he was, or should have been, but  there is a spunky anti-establishment feel to Leeds band The Voltaires which can only add to his reputation as one - I may edit his Wiki page and see what happens.

As well as citing the influences that leapt out when I played the debut album 'The Voltaires' for the first of many times over the Easter weekend (Dead Kennedys, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The Damned), The Ramones-like cacophony of the drumming, the snotty riffs that could have been lifted from any 1960s US garage or Gareth Williams's high-tensile vocals -  what REALLY impresses me about this album is the cohesive whole. It gels in a way that mere collections of songs don't - a high octane sugar rush without a spare calorie - you won't get fat listening to it, the isotonic melodies emerge from the leanness and the filthy fuzzy guitars give it heft and hoof - deceptively intelligent stuff.

The album can be bought as a limited edition CD or download from here

http://thevoltaires.bandcamp.com/

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Caitlin Rose

Leeds Brudenell Social Club - 28 February 2013

The person who takes to the stage is not the same person who walked to the same microphone on 8 September 2011. This is true of anyone, of course, as time waits for no man and all that but there is a confidence in the gait and a sparkle in the eye of Caitlin Rose not visible on that date. The body language short circuits the connection with the audience, the smile of confidence says "WE are about to enjoy ourselves" - and we do - EVERYONE. Anyone who doesn't has something wrong with them, that is all.

Touted as the next Patsy Cline, Rose has shrugged off the weight of expectation, surrounded herself with top notch Nashville musicians and producers, exercised a canny instinct for song selection but, most important of all, remained herself. The full house tonight causes her to visibly inhale and exhale - in the States, she informs us - "no one knows who I am" - a small fish in a big pond. But the UK's thirst for Americana remains unquenched and from the opening bars of 'No One To Call' we're with her all the way on a trip through her new album 'The Stand-In' - a record she has referred to as her 'high kick'. More radio friendly, it's a natural stab at success, a set of songs aimed at taking her to that next level.

This is country rock at its purest. A maligned genre associated with the coke-addled excesses of The Eagles, Rose strips it down to its roots with songs of personal headonism and then, regret ('Waitin'). Let's just forget for one moment she is 25 years old, there is a ring of authenticity that originates from her multi-textured voice, a thing of power then of fragility, very often separated by mere seconds ('Sinful Wishing Well').   Although her band is rehearsed to the hilt and tightly regimented within the confines of the lean arrangements there is thrilling interplay between electric and pedal steel guitars ('Old Numbers').

A belligerent closing 'Shanghai Cigarettes' allows Rose to make that leap from Patsy Cline to Stevie Nicks - she makes it seem natural and easy and her between-song banter is modest and spontaneous. Her stage craft, like her voice, seems to stem from a place of genuine authenticity. 

A couple of acoustic numbers (including " Too Stoned To Cry" taken by guitarist and songwriter Andrew Combs), a rabbler-rousing encore and she's done. I'd had a depressing experience the previous night from an artist who seemingly thought it was our privilege to be there. Caitlin Rose is the real deal who understands that her privilege is to share her gift with as many people as possible. For the 500 or so in Leeds, it may have been her privilege but it was OUR pleasure.

The Loud Residents

Layers of fuzz, feedback-drenched echo, drums that BOOM like a sledgehammer at the bottom of a grain silo, these kids (#hephephep) from Malaga sound like they've been told to go make a noise all their lives. Maybe they'll mellow, hopefully they won't - either way 'Savagexplosive Girl' sounds like The Ramones produced by Phil Spector (oh, wait) and 'Mafia' starts like vintage Alice Cooper before giving way to a railroad riff of foundation-shaking dimensions. The drums on 'Fuck The System!' appear to be at the point of detonation. All six tracks have a momentum that sweeps away any over-thinking. With music as raw as this, life seems simpler - The Loud Residents - don't go changing!