Joanna Newsom - Ys

It's been a while but I'm still absorbing this record. It certainly takes the listener on a journey, both within the span of each individual track and across the album as a whole, and it's a big step forward from The Milk-Eyed Mender. But is it better? I'm not sure. Taken together, the two albums are a good instancing of the folly of comparisons of that kind. Ys demands to be taken on its own terms, and not in the somewhat shrill, self-conscious way of its predecessor (which, incidentally, I liked a great deal, though I never felt the need to listen to it much after the first month or so) - it's subtle about it, but unequivocal. One that really needs to be lived with, and I'm not sure if I have the capacity or the inclination to immerse myself in such a record just now.

Mountain Man Dance Moves: The McSweeney's Book of Lists

Tee hee. Compiled from the website with various new unicorn-themed ones interspersed, along with supposed extracts from a tourist guide to German (those last being, if manufactured for this book, completely straight-faced).

Eight reasons why a tyrannosaur caught in a tornado is a funny thing to think about

1. The tiny, flailing arms
2. The helpless "RARRRRRR!"
3. The angry, wild-eyed expression
4. That dinosaur with the sail on his back floats by and he's just cruisin'
5. The landing
6. The Wizard of Oz music playing in the background. What an anachronism!
7. Tyrannosaurs inhabited the western United States, an area of the country known for its heavy tornado activity. Statistically speaking, it is probable that the scenario in question actually happened at least once. In this, as in all enduring comedy, there is a grain of indubitable truth inside the humour.
8. "RARRRRRR!" Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! "RAAAARRRRRRRRRR!"

etc.

Kurt Vonnegut - Breakfast of Champions

Turns out that I'd read this before, a fair while back, probably even before Slaughterhouse-Five. It's good, though I'm not sure what's with a lot of it (of course, a book like this tends to makes more sense in the overall impression than in the details, to the extent that it makes sense at all). Has made me think about satire. Also, Vonnegut is so easy to read! And he knows just what he's doing.

"It's Only Words" (Meanjin vol 58 no 2, 1999)

Back issue, loosely themed around words - a few good pieces.

This is a nice poem (in its entirety) by Greg McLaren. It is called 'I Have Sent Countless Letters':

To my enemy I have sent countless letters.

I have seen the golden light in his windows.
His house is bathed in it.

I know of that terror which assails him
though he seems invulnerable.

His exhaustive replies (courteous, perfumed,
in verse)
I welcome daily.

And this is a nice thought which, while initially counterintuitive, on further reflection struck me as quite true (from Darren Tofts' essay 'Driven to Abstraction'): the leap from the written to the typewritten word was negligible when compared to that from the typewritten to the electronic computer word-processed word:

The electronic word breaks dramatically with the tradition of inscription and imprinting that were characteristics of manuscript and typographic culture. An assemblage of picture elements on a screen, the electronic word lacks materiality and fixity. It highlights some important concerns to do with the task of keeping words in their place once we have put them there. Specifically, the electronic word rekindles [T S] Eliot's darkest fear: are we losing our control over words?

Neko Case @ the Prince, Friday 2 February

Man, best show ever, or near enough not to matter. Neko brought her whole band, and when she started singing the first song, "Wayfaring Stranger", it was almost hard to believe that she was actually singing live, so rich, clear and expressive was her voice (sounding even better with the slight reverb effect that was being applied to it). In fact, for the whole show, I was amazed by what a great singer she is - I already knew this, of course, but it's different again, not to mention a bit spine-tingling, when someone is doing it right in front of you, never mind backed by a fantastic four-piece band right at the top of its game (lots of fiery banjo work in particular) and with Kelly Hogan on backing vocals right beside her.

She played most of Fox Confessor and drew most of the rest of her material from Tigers (including both "If You Knew" and "Soulful Shade Of Blue", though no "Train From Kansas City" alas - one of the few omissions that I'd have particularly liked to hear), Blacklisted (pulling out the big show-stopping torch numbers "I Wish I Was The Moon", "Runnin' Out Of Fools" and "Look For Me (I'll Be Around)" and doing a great version of "Deep Red Bells") and the Canadian Amp ep ("Favorite" was the second song up), also throwing in a cover of Dylan's "Buckets Of Rain". The show didn't flag at all at any point, and there were too many highlights to enumerate...it really was just grand.

It was pretty hot last night, and she'd sold out the venue, so there was a real buzz around beforehand; around me, people were talking about Lisa Miller and the Harvest Festival. I got the strong impression that the crowd was really there for the music - along with the younger 'uns like myself, there were a fair few relative oldies, but everyone knew the songs and the reception was pretty rapturous, to the point of demanding no less than three encores (the last being comprised solely of "In California", which she said was the only song they had left), something I've never seen before. It all made me so happy.

Philip Pullman - Lyra's Oxford

A bagatelle - a short story set in Lyra's Oxford after the events of the HDM trilogy. It's nice, though, and justifies its book form and binding with the inclusion of a small handful of extras, the most substantial of which is a foldout street map of Oxford complete with period details.

Evelyn Waugh - Vile Bodies

Too delightful, too divine (not at all a bore) - at once wispy and pointed, it's basically perfect.

Philip Pullman - The Shadow in the North

If kids are reading this stuff, I feel better already. Like the first in the series, this is pretty grim in spots, but not ostentatiously so (over the top 'darkness' and 'grittiness' in childrens'/young adult lit can be really irritating); it's also quite convoluted though it's never difficult to follow if you concentrate. I spent seriously a whole day with the name of a generic category stuck somewhere near, but not quite in, my conscious recollection - I kept getting 'Victorian spectacular', but I knew that that wasn't quite right...the next day, it came to me - 'sensation', not 'spectacular' (though these novels aren't as, well, sensational as that term suggests). Anyway, it's tops.

"Sweet Soul / Disco: 70s - Party Down!" (IMP - January 2007)

The concept behind the international mixtape project is simple and neat: every month, each participant receives the name and postal address of another person who's involved, whereupon they have the rest of the month to send that person a mix tape or cd; their details having been provided to someone else at the same time, they can also expect to receive a mix themselves on more or less the same schedule.

So, having signed up earlier this month, I've been thrown a bit of a curveball by this first mix, which is just what its title suggests - soul and disco stuff which I assume is period authentic (who would've thought that Barry White would one day make it into my cd collection?). This isn't the kind of stuff I've ever listened to at all, and to be honest, this mix hasn't done much for me - though I do like "Don't Leave Me This Way" by Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes, which I think is probably a bit of a classic of its genre, and also the Eddie Kendricks ("Girl You Need A Change Of Mind") and Voyage ("Souvenirs") tracks. But ultimately it's all about being exposed to music that I wouldn't ordinarily hear, and on that count I can't complain at all.

(from Ric in Portland, Oregon)

"L'ensemble Young Rapture chante Laura Veirs"

Sweet - an ensemble of young schoolchildren in France singing Laura Veirs songs, selected from across the whole of her four-record back catalogue, sometimes solo (a gently affecting "Rialto" is a highlight) and sometimes in chorus. It has a chiming musicbox feel, aided by the simple, glittery instrumental adornment; unlike the recordings which emerged from the Langley Schools Music Project, technical proficiency seems to have been valued in making this music, and the result is quite lovely.

Margaret Atwood - The Blind Assassin

Atwood tends to leave me in two minds, and The Blind Assassin is no exception. It tells a story, well-told, and as such it's readable and interesting enough. But I never really got into it (although the second half held me a lot more than the first, as things gathered momentum and more of Atwood's subtle arrows struck home) and I'm still at a bit of a loss as to why Atwood is so critically acclaimed - I can see why she's widely read and well loved, but I just don't think she's as good as people make her out to be.

Perhaps I just don't respond to what seems to be her main theme, here as elsewhere - namely, the relationships of females (women and girls and those in between) with each other. I think that it's a strength of Atwood's that she's able to so vividly - and, though I wouldn't know, seemingly accurately - invoke these relations, but a consequence is that it's not generalisable to relationships generally, leaving me at one remove. That said, I'd be interested to know what others thought of Iris and Laura, taken as people/characters - I'm not sure which of the two I found more sympathetic (not that they're set up in such a way that the choice is necessary), and the pathos of Laura's character works both ways. Of course, it's fundamentally about storytelling, too, but I must say that while that theme is, of course, ever interesting and perhaps even unavoidable, there's a limit to the number of times that I can interestedly read the same old handling of it, even when (as here) done well.

Harvest Festival, Sunday 20th January

I guess we all had visions of a languid afternoon spent stretched out in the sunshine somewhere in the winery district when we bought tickets for this, pleasant folk and alt-country music drifting in the air around us; for sure, the picture didn't include heavy rain and mud everywhere, but that's what we got. Still, it was quite fun and the music was good if low-key, split across the 'Johnny Cash' (a big indoor barn) and 'Gene Clark' (a temporary, smaller marquee) stages:

The first act I saw was the Sand Pebbles, who do a kind of psychedelic pop-rock thing - kinda reminded me of Died Pretty - and seemed quite good. Then, a bit of the Rich Family set - another outfit that I hadn't heard of, but they were a winning bluegrassy three-piece who did their thing with a tightness and a warmth which made me feel good. After them, (sometime?) Bad Seed Conway Savage played a set of mournful, theatrical piano ballads - much like Cave himself - which again seemed pretty good, but it was really pouring at that point which put a distinct, if not entirely inapt, complexion on the music. And then a duo called the Darling Downs, who worked a kind of raw rock and roll, bluesy in a way which reminded of the styles' common origins - the crowd got really into it and so did some of the people I was with, though I didn't work up a lot of enthusiasm for it myself.

Then, from that point on - this brought us up to about 3:15 - began the acts that I'd really wanted to see (with a certain amount of overlap in their playing times, necessitating some strategic stage swapping on my part). First, Lisa Miller: I didn't enjoy her set as much as the last time I saw her properly, in part because of the different circumstances, and she didn't play any of my especial favourites (though "The Boy That Radiates That Charm" always goes down well, and likewise "You Make Everybody Love You"), but still, she's wonderful and I was glad to see her.

I didn't stay for the end, though, because I didn't want to miss of Laura Veirs' set. Again, it wasn't as good as the last time I saw her, and again the venue was considerably less conducive (it was just her and drummer Tucker Martine, and the subtleties of her gentle meanderings were a bit lost in the large space), but she did enough to remind me why she's not just one of my favourite of the current crop of alt-country chanteuses but one of my fave artists full stop. Music at its best is magical, and Veirs' has that indefinable something, some of which translated even under those less than ideal circumstances.

Next, Mary Gauthier, whose music I'd not listened to before but who I was keen to check out, and she didn't disappoint, winning a standing ovation at the end of her heartfelt, passionate set (most of the punters were there for the long haul, set up on portable chairs or picnic rugs, especially in the 'Johnny Cash' stage area where Gauthier was). To be honest, I was only partly paying attention, and ducked out midway for a while (braving the needle-like drizzle to feel temporarily cleansed and purified, and also to buy an icecream - that latter being an instance of whimsy getting the better of good sense, obviously), but I was pretty impressed by what I heard and I could see why she has such a great reputation.

Then, Ed Kuepper & Jeffrey Wegener - unexpectedly great. Well, not unexpected exactly because I've always liked the Ed Kuepper that I've heard, and of course he's basically Oz rock royalty so you'd expect him to have at least a bit going for him, but still and all I was a bit surprised by how excellent his set was - churning, vivid, guitar-and-grooves rock, of that kind which is particularly satisfying to listen to.

And for the show-closer, I picked Jen Cloher & the Endless Sea over the Church, back outside in the tent, and it was totally the right decision. (Before that, saw the final two songs done by Danny George Wilson, a troubador in the impassioned-with-acoustic-guitar vein who seemed to have impressed the crowd.) She/they kicked off with a sweet rendition of "The Longing Song" and quickly took it up a notch in intensity, highlights including a rampaging cover of "Folsom Prison Blues", "Peaks and Valleys" (which they tore up in the way that the studio version suggests), "Fingersmith", and a couple of other songs, not from Dead Wood Falls, that I didn't recognise (no "Better Off Dancing", to my disappointment). Live, Cloher's voice is richer and more immediately compelling than on record (not that it isn't great on the album, but there it generally has more of a rasp and a smokiness), and she makes a striking frontwoman, tall and skinny and right into the music - this set was easily the highlight of the festival for me.

So as I said, it was all pretty alright despite the thoroughly inclement weather, which put a serious dampener on things. The 40-minute sets didn't feel satisfying for the acts that I'd been anticipating, but that's in the nature of these things, and all things told it was a good day for the music.

(w/ Wei, Julian F, Michelle, Darren and James O'D - but I've written of myself only above because I spent a fair bit of time wandering around alone, as usual at these things)

Pan's Labyrinth

Like we'd been led to believe, a dark fairytale, and really, really good. It recognisably invokes long-familiar archetypes and symbols while possessing the clear hue of originality, and it's grim indeed but there's a thin golden thread running through it, too - like the way fairytales were, one imagines, before they were sanitised and made suitable for children. Feels like a dream, shading closely into nightmare territory - some of the imagery is nothing short of breathtaking. Well-woven with the 'real world' enforcement of tyranny in newly fascist Spain, too. And I think it would reveal new layers on rewatching.

(w/ Sid and Jade)

Asobi Seksu - Citrus

It's been a while since I heard a new album that I was excited about, but Citrus is exciting. Let me be precise about this: there are at least two ways in which music can be exciting - in the sense that it promises new horizons of some kind (generic, sonic, emotional, etc), or by providing an immediate visceral rush. And while there's a bit of that first sense here, mainly I'm talking about the other - the dazzle and surge of the record, its glorious coruscating swirls. Following brief scenesetter "Everything Is On", the one-two-three of "Strawberries", "New Years" and "Thursday" is astonishingly good, but it's "Red Sea" which convinced me that Asobi Seksu are 100% the real thing (as I write this, it's still my first listen - near the tail end of the record now[*]), skyscraping melodies wrapped in shoegazer thunder and light. The album sounds amazing, and the band has songs to match - this is exactly the kind of thing I like.

* * *

[*] That was some time last week - Thursday (appropriately) maybe. Spinning it again tonight, it doesn't seem quite as good - but listening to the record still feels, I don't know, like being wrapped up in the taste of candy.

Scarlett Thomas - Seaside

Her website doesn't advertise this (hmm!) but in addition to her lit fic novels, Thomas has written a series of murder mysteries focusing on Lily Pascale, charmingly idiosyncratic twenty-something literature lecturer. The premise is promising: one of two identical twins has committed suicide - or is is murder? - and no one is quite sure which is which; and it unspools rapidly from there with the confusion engendered by the twin-ness of it all being exploited to full effect. I liked reading this - it's clever and pacy and it does all the important things well. Also, Radiohead lyrics are an important part of the plot.

Amy Sedaris

Feeling pretty good about myself at the moment. Watching a bit of Letterman tonight [Wed 1am], my attention was caught by a sassy, fast-talkin' female guest in a black frock, dirty blonde hair and a girlish smile, quite adorable all told. So anyway, watching her I found myself thinking "this chick is like the way I imagine Amy Sedaris would be", followed in short order by "hey, I wonder if this is Amy Sedaris" - which, of course, it was. Hell, it's not even as if I know particularly much about AS nor that she looms particularly large in my imaginings...but I guess I'm always good on ideas of people and, perhaps, I know the type.

Dixie Chicks - Taking The Long Way

I've been thinking about how I'd describe this, the first Dixie Chicks album I've listened to in full, and I think that the best way of putting it is 'middle of the road fm radio country'. But that needs some explanation. 'Middle of the road' is normally a derisive sobriquet, but that's not the sense in which I mean it here, because I think that Taking The Long Way is actually very good - rather, I'm getting at the familiarity of the band's sound, at the radio-ready sheen of their songwriting and songs (though of course their falling out with US country radio has been well-documented: eg, here).

It's a set of sturdily-constructed, tightly performed country rockers, and one gets the sense that the Dixie Chicks are a really professional outfit - that they know just what they're doing. And, again, I don't mean this in a belittling sense - to suggest that they're simply going through the motions. Rather, it's as if they've honed their craft to a very fine edge, but that 'edge' is more in the way of a broad scoop of 'of the moment' country music than a really individually distinctive point - but they do it so well that one doesn't hold it against them. Highlights include the early dreaminess of "Easy Silence", the wide open roads anthem "Voice Inside My Head" (which has a bit of Sheryl Crow to it), and the swinging "I Like It".

Mark Chadbourn - Jack of Ravens

I'm not really up with the various generic categories but 'dark fantasy' seems a safe bet for this one - or, at least, that's what it seems to be striving for. But while Chadbourn does enough to have kept me reasonably enthralled and pulled through the novel at a rapid clip, I never felt really wrapped up, held in its threads - Jack of Ravens doesn't have the compelling weird of the best examples of its type, the troubling dreamlands of Stephen Donaldson, China Miéville and, in a slightly different vein, Mervyn Peake. It slips occasionally into overwriting - especially intrusive in the first pages - and while its ransacking of familiar myths and motifs is probably meant to lend the novel a universality revisioned, it mostly comes across as a bit familiar (Puck, the Fates in their guise as three women, the Seelie Court, Templars, John Dee, Elizabethan spies, Victorian prostitutes and figures of nightmare - I've seen much of this recently in Mary Gentle's 1610 and more in Gaiman's work, especially the Sandman series). It's not bad at all, but lacks the extra craft and sparkle that would have made it memorable.

Richard Beasley - Hell Has Harbour Views

A couple of people have mentioned this lately, so I thought I'd give it a go - and, now that I'm a corporate lawyer and all (or, at least, well on that way), it seemed probable that I'd get at least some knowing smiles out of a satire of the lifestyle. But in fact it left me a bit cold, and I only got about halfway through the novel before deciding that there were better ways of spending my time than finishing it. Somehow, it just wasn't quite funny or engaging enough. The prickling of a guilty conscience on my part? Nah - I'm not wired like that. Hell Has Harbour Views has no pretensions to literary merit, and it's not successful as pure entertainment either, is all.

Bright Young Things

Surprising that I hadn't seen this before, but better late than never, I suppose. It's one of those types of films that I'm very strongly predisposed towards liking - a jazz age swirl of lights and music which rushes along and keeps you entertained in such glittering style that it's only afterwards that you realise how terribly sad it all was, really (though Bright Young Things at least allows itself a happy ending for the central lovers) - and I did like it. You might say that it's a bit insubstantial, but that's the point really, isn't it?

(at the Rooftop Cinema w/ Gary + David B and Kai + Neil)