Summer of Discovery Part Two: August 2023

Summer of Discovery, part two

Greetings! The summer is drawing to a swift close as I type - the quickest summer I think I've ever experienced, though that could just be the classic perception of time 'flying past' brought about by ageing taking its toll already - and, to commemorate its passing, I'm giving you a present: the 2nd and final part to my Summer of Discovery series of reviews!

As you may quickly notice, the whole idea I initially approached this concept with around choosing albums at random from Mojo's selection of the 'best albums' to come out since it was established...well, it fell to the wayside, in my realisation of the desire I had to listen to some specific records; ergo, the first review on this list is the only one of a 'randomly selected' album.

I, in all seriousness, have relished the process of experiencing a record, taking notes, getting them down and getting them out onto this blog in some relatively coherent form through both parts of this 'Summer of Discovery' venture; some of the albums delved into as part of this 2nd iteration are undoubtedly staying on rotation for a good while. I hope that, in reading my analyses of each, that may become the case for you, too!

(NOTE TO SELF: maybe pick a less exciting and time-consuming mode of college work procrastination next time!!!)

14/8 - The Sophtware Slump by Grandaddy

It was from the comfort of my bed that I decided to re-enter my self-imposed, record-a-day diet, the first piece of randomly selected paper reading 'GRANDADDY - THE SOPHTWARE SLUMP'. A suitably alien beginning, then. Over the course of 11 songs, Grandaddy touch upon themes of isolation, obsolescence and...science fiction; 'Miner at the Dial-A-View' is your first port of call for understanding that observation. The band gives all of their songs a supernatural air in their use of instrumentation, moreover, as light piano flourishes are paired with glitchy, arpeggiated synths and overdriven guitars. I will admit that I found the latter half of Grandaddy's 2000 effort to be much more enjoyable than the former - though each of the compositions on this record are endearing in their own way - and that I had a bit of trouble warming to Jason Lytle's voice, however suited it is to the music to which it is set. For fans of other eccentrics boasted by the 90s like Eels, 12 Rods and Radiohead, I would suggest you give The Sophtware Slump a try.

Favourites: Underneath The Weeping Willow, Broken Household Appliance National Forest, Miner at the Dial-A-View

15/8 - Wrong-Eyed Jesus! by Jim White

If you're ever in dire need of a dose of folky quirkiness, look no further than Jim White's Wrong-Eyed Jesus! Curious about the title? Bag a physical copy and you'll receive liner notes boasting of a full-on (and brilliantly written) 'mysterious tale' of why such a phrase was yelled by the singer/songwriter - disclaimer...it is equally harrowing and hilarious. As for the music itself? Expect some heavenly country numbers (Sleepy-Town, with its pedal-steel guitar, banjo and harmonica flourishes, and Book of Angels), dazzling jazz-inspired tracks (the endlessly charming When Jesus Gets A Brand New Name bears a saxophone, a smooth walking bassline and captivating percussion) and more experimental cuts (of the likes of A Perfect Day to Chase Tornados and Wordmule, both songs whose endings are wonderfully cacophonous). That last genre of the list is prone to the odd flop across Wrong-Eyed Jesus! as shown through Angel-Land's slightly ear-grating harmonies. White's singing and lyricism across the record is another of its many enjoyable elements, as he melodically tells of anecdotes personal, like when he heard the night-time cries of a man who would later commit suicide as described in Still Waters, as well as relatable, when he is (I'm assuming metaphorically) 'stabbed in the heart' and 'left...to die' by his ex-lover in Stabbed In The Heart. The best bit of left-field folk I've heard in a long time; a damn good short story, too!

Favourites: Burn the River Dry, When Jesus Gets a Brand New Name, A Perfect Day To Chase Tornados

16/8 - Scott 4 by Scott Walker

Scott Walker's fourth record away from the spotlight he endured - to put it lightly - as a member of the Walker Brothers, though with a twist: unlike with his previous solo work, Scott 4 was the first to be released under his actual surname, 'Engel'. Perhaps, you may be thinking, this is the album on which Scott truly and triumphantly comes into his own - the LP is made up solely of original Engel compositions, after all! Strange...you read my mind! Cool and confident like never before, Scott 4 sees the crooner reach a compositional and poetic peak; not just in relation to Scott Walker, the artist, but as an album of the time period as a whole. (Ironic, then, that this was to be his biggest commercial flop yet...ahead of its time, I wonder?) 10 tracks comprise the album, all of which are of great musical depth and characteristically grandiose, though Walker, at his most ambitious, here introduces elements of rock n' roll in Get Behind Me, folky instrumentation in record closer Rhythm of Goodbye and jazz inflections, such as the singer's highly enjoyable scatting across the record - only indicating further the extent of Walker's creative control and contentedness in the making of this record. The lyrical darkness that had merely been hinted at through his past original material reveals itself in all of its gloomy glory on Scott 4, prime demonstrations being the knight who, having lost a chess match against Death himself, 'solemnly danced towards the dawn' in The Seventh Seal; the ominously ambiguous ending of 'put all the love back in me/I am lying/she is crying' of Duchess; and Walker's wry aside about a town's celebrated Hero of the War, 'it's too bad he can't shake hands or move his feet'.

And to think, but hours ago, I'd deliberated whether he could've possibly bested Scott 3...

Favourites: The Seventh Seal, Angels of Ashes, Hero of the War

17/8 - No Count Sarah by Sarah Vaughan

Music is considered to be, by some, the greatest mode of escapism; the gratification they get from sticking a stylus on a record and being transported to a vast soundscape, the best possible way to disappear from reality. For such a person, no truer would this idea ring than in the swinging jazz and brooding blues of Sarah Vaughan's No Count Sarah. The name of the album refers quite directly to the lack of a Count Basie accompaniment (though the rest of the Count Basie Orchestra plays along), however, in hearing the first notes sung by the virtuosic Vaughan, one immediately forgets about the backing instrumentation altogether. As the second track, Doodlin', gets into full swing, Vaughan's charismatic vocal exudes sassiness as it is manipulated and manoeuvred effortlessly; Suessdorf and Blackburn's Moonlight In Vermont is given the star treatment, its wistful descriptions of the city at night made to feel tangible through said star's liquid delivery; smatterings of scat and vocalese reign supreme in the Thad Jones-featuring No Count Blues and Stardust - Vaughan's emphatic 'whoops,' 'doo-be's and 'woo's comprising her own beautiful musical language. I'll end this review of No Count Sarah - a must-listen in the jazz chronology, by many accounts - by pointing out the irony I found in her singing of 'heaven' in Irving Berlin's Cheek To Cheek, when Vaughan herself constructs such a place in audio form, in which all of her listeners can bask eternally.

Favourites: Darn That Dream, Moonlight In Vermont, No Count Blues

18/8 - Disco Volante by Mr. Bungle

Holy. Shit. Was listening to this LP at midnight the absolute wrong decision? Or is that the only reasonable time at which to play death metal infused with jazz, infused with the odd bit of techno and punctuated by Mike Patton's whispers, screams and, erm, belching? I don't think I have it in me to form coherent conclusions to those inquiries! It's not often that an album leaves me utterly at a loss, but Mr. Bungle's second record, Disco Volante, had me out for the count from the opening track; its title, Everyone I Went to High School with Is Dead, alone enough to provoke a stunned silence. In said opener, deafening chants and a thunderous electric guitar assault the ears within seconds, as the tempo quickens and slows like wind-battered waves, merely hinting at the sheer madness that is to be unleashed at around the 2 minute mark. There is a method to Mr. Bungle's madness, though - an astounding level of musical ability is demonstrated throughout Disco Volante, most notably in the form of Danny Heifetz's versatile and breakneck drumming - and the vastness of the group's musical scope from the haunting, mounting cacophony of equally jazzy and ghostly Chemical Marriage and Desert Search for Techno Allah's combination of middle-Eastern instrumentation and bass-boosted electronica (and what a title) to the fluid metal of Phlegmatics which incorporates both clarinets and a supervillain-esque vocal delivery, is nothing short of revelatory. On October 10th 1995, the day Disco Volante was released to the world, the boundaries of music were stretched like they'd never been stretched before.

Favourites: Carry Stress in the Jaw, Phlegmatics, Platypus

19/8 - Me and Armini by Emilìana Torrini

A 2008 record comprised of many influences and quirks, Me and Armini sees Icelandic singer/songwriter Emilìana Torrini embark on a deconstruction of love and attraction. I will mention at this point in the review that I left listening to this at the last minute, so cut to a flagging Han making 'tired notes' on what is an album deserving of appreciation in a more lucid state and...not the prettiest picture, is it? Still, judging from what my weary head gauged from the 12 songs it was played, I derived some enjoyment from it. What struck me most about Me and Armini was Torrini's wonderful prose, particularly in tracks Hold Heart and Birds; the former depicting the narrator desperately plead, 'no, tears, don't you come out/if you blind me now, I am defeated' and the latter beginning with the luscious line, 'let's stay awake/and listen to the dark'. Other songs made for a riveting listen, like Gun, whose sheer sparsity - its most prominent sounds, an low electric guitar loop and the odd exhalation or finger click from Torrini - a suspenseful and smart narrative about a husband-turned-affair-victim-turned murderer. Some of the more straightforward songs on Me and Armini, I found to be on the repetitive side, in the case of bubbly ditty Big Jumps and the overly-onomatopoeic Jungle Drum; I can also imagine some finding Torrini's voice to be on the grating side, however I liked its versatility and deceptive subtlety. An endearing album from an engaging musician.

Favourites: Birds, Hold Heart, Dead Duck

20/8 - Ambient 2: The Plateaux Of Mirror by Harold Budd and Brian Eno

Reclining in my chair and soothed by the autumnal smell of my favourite candle - 'Pecan Bourbon,' or the most calming of candle scents - I pressed play on an album that proved similar to the latter object in its comforting quality. A collaborative effort by electronic and ambient music pioneers Harold Budd and Brian Eno, 1980's Ambient 2: The Plateaux Of Mirror is, despite the connotations evoked by its rather winding title, not as pretentious a journey into sound as you might expect. On the contrary: this record teems with reflective rusticity, inviting the listener to drift away with a wistful soundtrack of pitter-pattering pianos and reverberating synths to accompany their thoughts. In the 10 tracks that make up Ambient 2, the duo's musical inclinations - Eno's synth-driven explorations and Budd's more rural tones - coalesce wonderfully, creating a space in which one can feel, just as the music itself does. Take the gloom of the third and titular track, whose moody Moog underlines in it an eerie tone beneath heavenly broken chord glissandos, how its swaying instrumentation moves the listener. Or, hear how An Arc of Doves and Failing Light's Buddian piano - that is, the distant and dreamlike piano tone often heard in Budd's compositions - is intertwined with the synth that subtly seeps in and out of the fore. It is nigh on impossible to not be transfixed by the equally dissonant and poignant music comprising Ambient 2's 40 minutes. These compositions feel, to me, like faraway waves faintly crashing against a beach's sand; that, or (the final note I made on this album), like 'a hug captured in slow motion captured in song'.

Favourites: The Plateaux Of Mirror, Not Yet Remembered, Wind In Lonely Fences

21/8 - We'll Have A Time by Dear Nora

A band spoon-fed to me by one of Spotify's soulless, algorithmically-generated playlists - so sue me for dipping into a Daily Mix once in a while - the four musicians that comprise indie/folk outfit Dear Nora have been at it for 2 decades now. The record of theirs I decided to delve into, We'll Have A Time, was their 2001 debut, and it's a sweetly short experience; its 12 songs totalling a mere 26 minutes. We'll Have A Time is not an experience you'll be wanting to miss out on, however, as the aptly-titled opener Rollercoaster would suggest (and in more than just name). That track, alongside the later Since You Went Away and From My Bedroom Window, will swiftly put you in a trance with their quaint and ambitious vocal harmonies; with Katy Davidson playfully accompanying their main vocal across the album, to great success. There is an endearingly DIY feel to each composition, as evidenced in 'Round and 'Round's fuzzy power chords and quick percussion - by the same token, I expect those who listen to We'll Have A Time won't be too surprised to hear the occasional dodgy drum fill. The general simplicity of said instrumentation lends itself effectively to Davidson's poignantly plain lyricism: their statement of 'I don't know if I can wait another day to see the night' in Early To Bed and the spacious You Looked Like A Portrait's title echoed with 'of someone who cared' added on, just two tantalising titbits of what you'll hear on this LP. You'll have a time, indeed.

Favourites: You Looked Like A Portrait, Everyone's The Same, Early To Bed

22/8 - Dogsbody by Model/Actriz

One of the best outputs in the vein of industrial music that I've heard so far in 2023, Model/Actriz's record Dogsbody is a raucous and unsettling collection of ear-throttling thumpers. Coherent throughout, this album deploys 10 dazzling tracks, rapid-fire and unrelentingly, that command the listener to dance, to move or simply to stand and experience the sound. The opener, Donkey Show, chucks you into the site of an oncoming mosh: breathy and half-spoken vocals precluding the pounding drums and industrial fuzz that is soon to wreak musical havoc. Tracks like Mosquito, Amaranth and Maria are hard to describe in their shocking unpredictability, sudden crescendos and palpable intensity; a sensation no doubt enhanced by such hair-raising lyrics as 'I wish he would remove the blade from my neck/I know he waits for me to do it myself' in Maria. Furthermore, I feel that the influence of experimental noise stalwarts Xiu Xiu, particularly that of Jamie Stewart's haunting voice, cannot be understated as one force behind Dogsbody - the idiosyncratic Divers and genuinely frightening Sleepless, mirroring the band's hallmark freakish soundscapes. Model/Actriz will certainly take up residency in your brain for the foreseeable after you hear their debut record.

Favourites: Slate, Divers, Maria

23/8 - no album review as I went to a Boygenius/Ethel Cain concert in Halifax, which you can read about in an upcoming review!

24/8 - PARANOÏA, ANGELS, TRUE LOVE by Christine and the Queens

What better a way to round off my 'Summer of Discovery' series than to review a 96-minute-long experimental synth-pop opera? I've been meaning to experience the new Christine and the Queens record, Paranoïa, Angels, True Love, since its release in early June, but failed to get around to it - until the thought about my last 'discovery' led me straight back to its stark and alluring cover art. Comprising the second, third and fourth parts to follow Letissier's last LP, Redcar les adorables étoiles, this stunning 20-song feature sees the musician stretch his imagination to previously unseen heights: combining classical elements (see the Canon in D sample underpinning Full of life), 808 drum machines (A day in the water), jazz influences (Aimer, plus vivre) and more in a fluctuating foundation, atop which Letissier's angelic and indelible vocals soar. The lyrical content of Paranoïa, Angels, True Love is as angelic as his singing, but more so in a literal sense; no more obviously demonstrated than in I feel like an angel, wherein Letissier is 'searching for undying promises,' and no more poignantly than in the Madonna-featuring Angels crying in my bed - in which he asks, 'is it love or is it blood/dripping off my wrists'. With the French artist's songs often revolving around the existentialist ideas of love and identity - his musings sometimes recited by the Queen of Pop herself - it makes sense for the instrumentation in Paranoïa, Angels, True Love to be so chameleonic throughout. Some choices in this regard are less effective than others, in my view, though I personally am not a huge fan of 808s or the auto-tune brought to the table by rapper 070 Shake. Other experimental ventures of his made across this record, such as the sprawling Track 10 (actually 7th out of the 20 tracks, despite the title) whose ghostly choral sample and funky drumming expands into a tapestry of equally guttural and feather-light singing, industrial cacophony with a side of spoken word about a 'crazy French bitch,' however, are indicative of his status as the modern musical star; Letissier's ability to weld together myriad genres with not just ease but tact of the highest calibre, combined with his astonishing artistic vision, placing him into a position of peerlessness. A spellbinding LP.

Favourites: Marvin descending, Track 10, He's been shining for ever, your son