My internet shat itself yesterday, and didn’t come back up until this afternoon – here’s what should’ve appeared yesterday…
What better way to kick off your Friday than with a selection of the best tracks from the It All Started archives? If I’m honest though, this is really just an excuse for me to repost all those tracks that I love and that you may have missed the first time round. Today’s edition is all about the coverage… enjoy!
Image: Isn’t this a gorgeous photo? This girl looks a lot wiser than her years. It was taken by Sam Hood in July 1935 and is from the State Library of New South Wales’ collection on flickr.
For those of you who may have missed it, my Top 5 Releases of 2009 was posted by Sandy over at Slowcoustic earlier this week. I thought since it was an end of year list though it should make an appearance over here at some point, preferably before the year was over.
This is how it appeared over at Slowcoustic, with a couple of slight differences. Sandy included an mp3 from each artist, but I’ve changed things up a little and a couple of the tracks you will see here didn’t appear over there. I say this just in case you’re strange enough or bored enough to compare the two and feel compelled to question my integrity.
***************************************
Well here we are again at the end of another year, and yet again I find myself wondering where it went. 2009 has been yet another fantastic year for music, and while the blog took a bit of a haitus while I spent a couple of months travelling overseas, I’ve done my best to catch up with what I missed. Here’s my top 5 releases from 2009.
1. Good News – Withered Hand
I’ve been trying for weeks to write about this album and how much I love it, but as is the case with albums that really resonate with me, I find that it’s difficult to do it justice with mere words.
Withered Hand is the performing name of Edinburgh’s Dan Willson and somehow he’s managed to produce a stunning collection of songs that I’ve not been able to get out of my head. There’s an honesty about the way he writes, nothing’s hidden from view but is all laid out before you, every last twisted bitter thing. It’s a melancholy album, an album that questions and provokes and but there are countless moments of pure sweetness in the turn of phrase, the imagery, the wavering vocals and the subtle percussion. The lyrics are brilliant, raw and organic. A truly gorgeous album.
Highlights include my pick for song of the year ‘Religious Songs’ as well as ‘Love In The Time Of Ecstacy’, ‘No Cigarettes’ and ‘Providence’.
Religious Songs – Withered Hand (This is the EP version, which I like slightly more than the album cut – it’s a little less polished)
I’ve not numbered the rest of my top 5 as I love them all equally – only ‘Good News’ stands about the rest – so the next 4 are in alphabetical order by artist.
Hospice – The Antlers
This was another album I struggled to write about for quite some time, and it probably would’ve been my top pick if it had not been for the discovery of Withered Hand.
‘Hospice’ is an album about a man who watches a loved one die of cancer. It’s a heartbreakingly gorgeous album, and I don’t think it’s enough to just have a digital version of this album either – you really need the physical copy to fully appreciate its beauty. The artwork is haunting and lovely and the lyrics, written out as paragraphs and not lines, give the feeling of an epic novel, rather than just a collection of songs. While this is a concept album specifically about somebody dying of cancer, what I love about it is that it can be interpreted in so many ways.
Every track is magnificent, truly, but the standouts for me are ‘Kettering’, ‘Bear’ and ‘Two’ (a track which also featured up high in my song of the year list).
Meursault have been on my radar since 2008’s Pissing On Bonfires/Kissing With Tongues, but it wasn’t until I heard this year’s Nothing Broke EP that I really started to warm to them (now you know why this post is about the best releases and not the best albums!) Pissing…. is more of an electro-type album, where as Nothing Broke is purely acoustic – warm and melancholy and absolutely gorgeous. It’s only 5 tracks, but they’re all magnificent.
The two highlights for me are ‘William Henry Miller Part 1′ – its simple twangy banjo beginning grabbed me immediately, and Neil Pennycook’s vocals are outstanding, complete with that lovely Scottish tinge that enhances every wonderfully chosen word. Closing track ‘William Henry Miller Part 2′ follows directly from ‘Part 1′ and features piano and guitar and a greater ambience than ‘Part 1′ – just listen to those ‘ohhhhh’ moments. You’ll know the ones I mean.
The debut album of London’s Mumford & Sons is nothing short of wonderful. A little bit bluegrass, a little bit alt-country, it combines gorgeous instrumentation and harmonies to create an album that is both rollicking and melancholy all at the same time.
There are so many highlights on this album, from opening track ‘Sigh No More’, which takes its inspiration from the words of Shakespeare, to ‘The Cave’, ‘Winter Winds’, ‘Roll Away Your Stone’ and ‘White Blank Page’. Expect more great things from these guys in the future.
Capping off a stellar top 5 comes New Jersey’s Roadside Graves. With a name that sounds more like a metal outfit than a troupe of country rockers, these guys have created a richly narrative driven collection of songs. Each track touches on death and mortality, exploring it through the use of husky vocals, tinkling piano, multiple tempo changes and countless sing along moments. This album has accompanied me on many a road trip and many an evening run and remains a frequent favourite.
Highlights include ‘Ruby’, ‘Far And Wide’, ‘My Father Sat Me Down’ and ‘Valley’.
The Antlers stopped by Daytrotter recently, recording three tracks from Hospice as well as ‘Cold War’ from the Cold War EP. I’m still raving about these guys and nabbing every opportunity to talk them up whenever I can. If you’re lucky enough to be living in the Northern Hemisphere, you might have half a chance of checking them out live – head to their myspace for dates.
I went to a funeral last week. I haven’t been to many funerals, and only one of them has been for a person I was close to. Most of them have been for people who were older and had enjoyed a long and happy life. Two, however, have been for people close to my own age. One of them was for a boy who committed suicide when we were in Year 11. The other was for the brother of an old friend, a man only two years older than myself. This was the funeral I attended last week.
For some reason, this one has really affected me, almost more so than my grandpa’s, which was the first death I experienced of someone that I was close to. I think it might be because I hadn’t talked to this man in a over a year, and only once or twice since I learned he had cancer. I think it’s because he’s my vintage, my generation. I think it’s because I grew up with his family and now part of that family is gone.
Maybe we don’t fully grow up until our peers start falling down around us.
I’ve been listening to The Antlers Hospice this afternoon, an album that, coincidentally, is about a man who watches a loved one die of cancer. I’ve been meaning to write about it for months now, but every time I’ve tried, words have failed. It’s a heartbreakingly gorgeous album, too gorgeous to justice to with mere words I think, and that’s why I’ve been struggling.
I don’t think it’s enough to just have a digital version of this album either – you really need the physical copy to fully appreciate its beauty. The artwork is haunting and lovely and the lyrics, written out as paragraphs and not lines, give the feeling of an epic novel, rather than just a collection of songs.
Every track is magnificent, truly, but the standouts for me are ‘Kettering’, ‘Bear’ and ‘Two’ (potential song of the year?).
Kettering: You said you hated my tone, it made you feel so alone, and so you told me I ought to be leaving. But something kept me standing by that hospital bed, I should have quit but instead I took care of you. You made me sleep and uneven, and I didn’t believe them when they told me that there was no saving you.
Bear: There’s a bear inside your stomach, the cub’s been kicking you for weeks. And if this isn’t all a dream well then we’ll cut him from beneath. Well we’re not scared of making caves or finding food for him to eat. We’re terrified of one another and terrified of what that means. But we’ll make only quick decisions and you’ll just keep my in the waiting room. And all the while i’ll know we’re fucked and not getting unfucked soon. When we get home we’re bigger strangers than we’ve ever been before you sit in front of snowy television, suitcase on the floor.
Two: Something in my throat made my next words shake, and something in the wires made the lightbulbs break. There was glass inside my feet and raining down from the ceiling, it opened up the scars that had just finished healing.
That line about being ‘bigger strangers than we’ve ever been before’ slays me every time, and could easily be applied to any human relationship, regardless of the medical status of the participants. While this is a concept album specifically about somebody dying of cancer, what I love about it is that it can be interpreted in so many ways.
The Antlers are currently touring everywhere but Australia (grrrrr) and you can find out more about their upcoming gigs at their myspace.
It All Started With Carbon Monoxide 