Showing posts with label Amanda Votta. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amanda Votta. Show all posts

20 Aug 2014

The Silver Thread - Stone Breath's Timothy Renner Interviewed

Photo by Meghan Weaver
Interviewed by Amanda Votta and Grey Malkin

Stone Breath’s newest album, "Children of Hum", will be available on August 26th. It’s a wonderful, inspired album (review here) —and one that inspired Amanda and Grey Malkin to ask Timothy Renner a few questions about it, and the path he and Stone Breath have taken over the past nearly 20 years of song.

You can preorder the album via Dark Holler (http://darkhollerarts.com/product/stone-breath-children-hum/) or on Stone Breath’s bandcamp page (http://stonebreath.bandcamp.com/album/children-of-hum)

Amanda: In the past, you’ve referenced a silver thread, the most obvious examples being the album titles "A Silver Thread to Weave the Seasons" and "The Silver Skein Unwound". Here, you sing about the silver thread in “Always All One, All Ways Alone” as something that is always there, that winds around and down your paths. What is the silver thread to you and why is it an image, an idea, a way of describing, that you return to again and again and for so many years? Is the “hum” of the album connected to this silver thread?

Timothy: This idea of the Silver Thread, something which has proven to be a guiding spiritual concept in my adult life, came from a comic book. It turns out, upon finding the back issues and re-reading them as an adult, I greatly enhanced the idea in my mind. I remembered it with more detail and symbolism than the actual story ever had. But the seed was from a comic book I read as a child. A Thor comic book actually. I probably would have been embarrassed to admit that until somewhat recently, but now I just see it as a beautiful example of the thing that hums getting through. The thing that mattered stayed with me and my mind elaborated on the concept.

So, in the original story, Baldur is given the thread that represents his fate by the Norns and thus he gains control of his own fate. That's about all that happened. In my mind, I changed this memory to Baldur receiving the thread and it turning to silver in his hands - and this became a wonderful concept to me - the idea that when we take our fate into our own hands it becomes something precious - and we begin to then weave our own story as opposed to letting it be woven for us. I still love this idea - and so I often use the symbolism as looking back and seeing these trails of threads weaving and winding about each other, and sometimes going off on their own.

As powerful a guiding image as the Silver Thread has been, perhaps more powerful yet has been the HUM - and this, as I explain in the album notes, came from Prydwyn - and it is a beautiful and simple way to just describe our search for meaning and spirit and inspiration - without trying to justify our ways with maze-like meanderings of reason and belief - or apparently confusing labels such as I have used in the past (e.g. Marian animism) - and it is this: Some things hum. Some things do not hum. We follow those things that hum.

So, maybe it's the thread that we hold in the present and trail into the past, but it's the hum that is in all times and guides us forward and back. Hopefully, anyone reading this will understand I am in the process - and have been my entire life - of building a personal mythology and I am not in any way trying to set down a dogma - this is not "they way things are" - but only a series of symbols which are beautiful and meaningful to me. I would encourage others to follow whatever hums to their ears.

A: In the statement you made about this album, you talked about how your beliefs have been misinterpreted, misunderstood and misrepresented by people over the years. So, if you’re comfortable discussing it, maybe you could talk a little about what it is you believe and how this evolved over the years and the history of Stone Breath. How do your beliefs play a role in the art you make, and what role is it they play? Is it an active part of what you create? Both your illustration and your music.

T: Much was made in the early years of the band of us being a pagan or even "wiccan" band. I was always an animist. I guess that is a form of paganism to some, but it's not wiccan to my knowledge. There was a fellow in a band we used to play with occasionally who would insist that I was/am wiccan. At least three separate times he came up to either me personally or the band as a whole and said "You guys are wiccan" - or "you (meaning me, personally) are wiccan." When I would say "No, I'm not" - he would say "Yes you are" - and we would continue this dance until he would finally just smile and nod and say "O.K" like I was pulling his leg.

Prydwyn and I were both raised Catholic and in some sense I still consider myself culturally Catholic - and I do quite love the Blessed Virgin Mary. I am beyond the point of caring if She is a symbol, a real holy being, or some form of the Goddess. I simply don't care anymore. All the dogmatic shit that goes along with organized religion - and the way people use it to control others - I throw that right out the window. The same is true of Her son - I find the idea of a human sacrificing himself for the good of all mankind to be just beautiful and powerful - and though I did, for a time, call myself Christian (though with hindsight, I think this was more to put off those that would insist I was "wiccan" for instance), I realized that this now means something very different and often quite repressive - especially in America, calling oneself "Christian" has become almost a shorthand for believing certain things, not just spiritually, but politically and socially - things I do not believe at all.

In my 20s I spent time with the Chaos Magick folks (you can find my art in the old Thanateros journals - I think I did a few covers for them as well) and as I age I realize that this was perhaps the most positively influential thing in my spiritual path - and while I don't sit around doing the Death Posture and drawing sigils anymore - I value that time for a few great lessons, one of which is: take what works and use it. I have done this, consciously and subconsciously, ever since - and perhaps even before.


Art by Timothy Renner
I find it increasingly difficult to talk about what I believe in any way that makes sense to someone else - and likewise I find it increasingly difficult to write songs to express these things. Stone Breath was ever my vehicle for documenting my spiritual interests and beliefs, and that is changing, I think, slowly and subtly. So, I am in a place, for now at least, where I just said everything I wanted to say on that matter (via "Children of Hum"). While I used to write almost every aspect of my beliefs into songs, or entire albums - I can't say exactly what the future will hold regarding Stone Breath. I think we will be exploring things like folklore - which we have done quite a bit in the past - without so much worry about spiritual/religious beliefs. Then again, who can say exactly what the future holds.

A: This album is a return of sorts for Stone Breath, a going back home. It’s just you and Prydwyn again, making simple yet layered songs. You’re technically more advanced as players and singers, but you still maintain that beautiful imperfection—the element of the human—in your songs. How is it to work with Prydwyn again? Is the way you write song, the way you play and sing affected by doing these things with him in ways that are unique to the way you’re affected by working with other people? And how does the familiarity between the two of you affect what you create together?

T: I guess the question would be how is it to work with ONLY Prydwyn again - because we never stopped working together. Even for that period of time when I thought Stone Breath was dead, Prydwyn and I continued to work on music. But it became apparent that this album was to have a certain meaning and the things we were talking about not only grew out of discussions I had with Prydwyn but also from seeds that we planted together in and out of Stone Breath, so it seemed right to have it just be Prydwyn and me this time.

Likewise, after nearly 20 years and something like a dozen albums, depending on how you count, and multiple EPs, all of acoustic music, I do make a conscious effort to try to change things up from album to album, sonically. The previous few albums with Don on guitar tended to be busier and more baroque - so I wanted to simplify things a bit. We did multitrack, but we didn't record it in a way that we couldn't have done live - in other words, I am playing one instrument and singing on each song. When Prydwyn is singing, he isn't playing flute or whistle - it was recorded in such a way that it could have been recorded live. This was done on purpose - to keep it sparse and natural sounding. The last album we recorded that was just Prydwyn and I was "A Silver Thread to Weave the Seasons" - the second Stone Breath album - and that was done on 4-track. So, this way of recording kind of harkened back to the limitations of the 4-track.

Prydwyn taught me a lot about music. He taught me how to sing. He is partially responsible for me getting over a somewhat bad case of ongoing stage fright. So, what I have for Prydwyn is a kind of deep trust, artistically. I always feel really confident when he is by my side. I still find myself surprised and amazed by his contributions. However, he gets Stone Breath on a really essential level, so I don't have to do a lot of explaining of ideas and concepts. At the same time, he CARES about the ideas and concepts behind the songs. It's not simply about the notes and scales. So, there's nobody and I mean NOBODY I would rather work with than Prydwyn. For me, it's just wonderful.

A: Aside from Stone Breath, you’re involved in other bands. One of those is Albatwitch, where you make much noisier and overtly forceful songs than in Stone Breath. Albatwitch is also more obviously influenced by ideas that are political or social in nature: anarchy, taking a stand against corporations. How and why is it you came to want to be involved in a band where you were much more open about your social and political ideas and ideals? Is this something that’s long been important to you, but hasn’t made an obvious appearance in your music until now? And, again if you’re comfortable with it, perhaps you can discuss a bit the ideas you and Brian are conveying through your music?

T: I grew up in the DIY/punk/zine scene. I was involved with the anarchist movement before, but when I was younger, I never felt good enough. It seemed like there were all of these passionate perfect anarchists who just did everything right - the right politics, the right diet, the right books, etc - while I was just this big fuck up. I just felt like I could never be good enough. As I grew older I realized that we are all flawed and learning as we go through life and I'm just trying to be better all the time - and I still fuck up - but I am an anarchist. It's the political belief that makes any sense to me. I just got the confidence to say it more often and openly.

Brian has a solo project called LAYR - he had me do some vocals on a song and write the lyrics for it. He explained to me that the album was generally political, but used a lot of medieval type symbolism to express these ideas. So, I wrote the lyrics with that in mind. It was one of the first overtly political songs I've written.

Brian lives very close to me - we have children about the same age who often play together - we share a lot of the same interests. I'm actually surprised it took as long as it did for us to start working together - but when we did, I just decided to start writing these political songs. I found I was VERY angry about the way things are in this country and in this world.


Photo by Sara Lyon
Stone Breath has been my vehicle for exploring my spiritual trip in music. I am very lucky to have found people who connect with that - but I am never sure how I am connecting with people. Are they identifying with the things I'm saying? Are they just observing my trip? Do they just like the sounds we're making? Are they applying their own meanings to my words? Any of these things is ok, but I literally just don't know. For example, when we were recording "Lanterna Lucis Viriditatis," I decided that decapitation was in some way related to spiritual enlightenment. It's a rather odd concept and would take a rather long time to explain - but my point is, I don't imagine too many people were just right there with me: "Decapitation? oh, me too Tim!" So, I'm thinking people are connecting in some other way, and that's just fine.

With Albatwitch, on the other hand, I'm saying things that relate to the physical world. I'm saying, for instance - look fracking is FUCKED UP and it's harming all of us and it's ruining the water in ways we don't even understand yet, all so some very very rich men can get richer.

With Stone Breath I'm looking in - or at least I WAS. "Children of Hum" might be all I can say on those matters. In my mind, I've kind of clarified things. I've set the record straight, as best as I could, and I'm done. Stone Breath isn't done - we have plans for more albums - but thematically, I think my writing is changing. Lyrically, Albatwitch songs just feel more urgent to me. I feel like I'm saying things that people understand, I think. I am talking about things that anger and frighten me - things that my children will also likely have to deal with. In this sense I am coming full circle to my younger self - bringing back all the musical experience I've gained - and telling myself it's ok to be overtly political and it's ok to call yourself an anarchist even if you are not perfect.

Grey: You recently made Stone Breath’s back catalogue digitally available on Bandcamp after several years of resisting the online distribution of your music. What changed your mind and how do you feel about digital downloads as a platform for music as opposed to physical copies? As an artist who designs and makes your own (and others) album covers how does the digital medium compare?

T: I started buying most of my music on Bandcamp and figured: well, it's time. I'd greatly prefer people get the physical albums, but I understand it's just not how some people listen to music anymore. Bandcamp gives the artist a lot of control - it's very artist-friendly - and it's very easy. We still won't do iTunes or Amazon mp3 or any of that. I think for most independent bands being on iTunes is just something they want so they can show their friends and parents - "look mom, we're on iTunes!" Anybody with a recording and some extra cash can get on iTunes. It doesn't matter. iTunes and their like are not artist-friendly. For us, Bandcamp is the answer.

G: Stone Breath have covered songs by and paid tribute to The Incredible String Band, Tom Rapp and COB. What other influences do you have musically, artistically or otherwise on your music? Are there any bands in that list that listeners would perhaps be surprised to hear about? Which artists inspired you to pick up a guitar or banjo and begin recording in the first place and what are you currently listening to?

T: Well, as I said, I grew up in the DIY/punk scene in the 80s/early 90s. I always wanted to make music, but I was really poor. Two friends bought me an acoustic guitar for my birthday one year - because neither they nor I could afford an electric guitar plus an amplifier. So, when I got this I started looking into acoustic music and found that I really loved folk music. No part of me ever thought to combine acoustic with punk like some of these anarcho-folk bands do - I find that brilliant. It's raw and exciting and I love it - but it just didn't occur to me. So, I never learned to play rock and roll. This amazes Brian for instance because he handles almost all of the heavy guitar/bass parts for Albatwitch - I can't play like that - power chords and such - I never learned! But I listened to punk and post-punk and I never stopped. Just because I found COB doesn't mean I stopped loving Nausea - I've never looked at music in that way. One of my favorite albums of all time is Saw Throat's "Inde$troy" - we used to carry the CD reissue in the Dark Holler distro long before there was ever an idea of Albatwitch - a heavy album of crusty doom which speaks of environmental devastation at the hands of corporations.

So, what inspired me to pick up a guitar? Honestly, what gave me the confidence was the DIY culture - that idea of just picking things up and DOING them because you want to - of not letting anyone stop you because you don't have formal training or whatever - that was huge for me. I was lucky because around that time bands like Swans were picking up acoustic guitars and the whole neo-folk thing started happening in the UK - while I was looking into more traditional folk music - so it seemed like something was brewing and suddenly it was ok to have an acoustic guitar. Though it would be some years before it was "ok" to have a banjo - Stone Breath took a good bit of grief from indie reviewers for having banjo in our music at the beginning - it's hard to believe now that banjo is indie-hip, but that never stopped me either.

As to what I'm listening to now - I think my favorite current band is probably Northern Liberties. Sort of a post-hardcore band (they call it ghost punk) from Philidelphia. Just bass, drums, and vocals. Kind of eerie outsider music with this weird almost channeled/spiritualist vibe. I love them!

G: Your label Dark Holler has the feel of a family run business with high quality and unique output ranging from albums, artwork and clothing to beautiful custom made instruments. What led you to set up Dark Holler and is there an ethos to how it operates? What future projects do you have in mind for the label and how would you like to see Dark Holler develop?

T: Dark Holler Arts is the sort of blanket name for a series of labels and related pursuits. Hand/Eye is the sort of main label - those releases, for the most part, get distributed in stores and if the artists agree, digitally. Lost Grave is a more limited edition label - Brian and I do this together - these are usually releases of 100 copies or less and often in handmade packaging. Eleventh Key is Brian's label - he does a lot of digital distribution and has a separate distribution deal from Hand/Eye. We just combined everything under one roof, so to speak - as we were constantly helping each other anyway.

I ran a tape label in the late 80s/early 90s. When I started making my own music, it was natural to self-release. Even when I was signed to other labels, I made more music than they could release for me, so I had an outlet for these other projects. After a time other artists started coming to me and asking me to help them release their material - it seemed easy enough as I had the know-how. Eventually, I started going to artists and asking them to work with us and finding reissues I wanted to release and it just snowballed. Hand/Eye alone has had well over 60 releases now.

If there's an ethos it's just try to treat artists the way I would want to be treated. There's not a lot of money to be made - it's really a matter of a few releases that do sell paying for a bunch that don't sell as well - it's always a gamble and it always plays out over a very long time. There's also crazy things like returns from the distributor (so you may think you have sold out of something but then suddenly 100 copies come back) - which make any kind of accounting a nightmare. So, both artist and label have to give a lot and be understanding and really do it just for the love of doing it with the hope to make a little money in the end.

The record industry crash a few years back hit us hard. I invested record label money in some brick and mortar property (a recording studio), thinking that it would be wise to divest. This was a terrible mistake and just did not work out well at all. So we were hit hard and then hit again - the second time was fully my own fault and my poor judgment. It's left us with a very small pool of operating funds, so we just are not able to do as much as we would like anymore. We've had to turn bands away and change other projects from vinyl to CD ("Children of Hum" was meant to be a 10" record, for instance). But we're not finished.

We're trying to get some really great reissues going on Lost Grave - I'm talking old demo tapes from the 80s/90s - we really want to save this music and make physical copies available again. It's crazy hard finding folks and harder yet to get them excited about reissuing their old music, but hopefully as we stay after people we can make some magic happen. Besides that, we will continue to do small editions with new bands we like.

Hand/Eye should have some exciting news soon on the vinyl front - plus we are curating a 2CD benefit compilation which is just in its infant stage.

You can stream or purchase "Children of Hum" here, available August 26:

18 Aug 2014

Stone Breath "Children of Hum"


The new Stone Breath album is such a cause for celebration that rather than let my writers come to fisticuffs as to who would review it, we're running a double review with Grey Malkin and Amanda Votta both sharing their perspectives:

Though it is the newest of Stone Breath’s albums, there is something incredibly familiar about "Children of Hum". Thanks in large part to the return of Stone Breath to the duo of Timothy and Prydwyn, the songs here sound as though they were wrought from the same stuff as their older work. Of course, there are the differences that time brings. Timothy’s skill as a musician has never been more apparent, nor has the beauty of his voice. Prydwyn’s singing is likewise truly remarkable and shining, his flute more mesmerizing than ever. Together, they make these cracked, ragged songs into some of the most perfect in Stone Breath’s history.

It’s always useful in a review to try to define the genre, to make useful comparisons to other bands who have come before or who work contemporaneously in a style similar to the music being discussed. While it would be easy to classify Stone Breath as psychedelic folk, to mention the influence that The Incredible String Band or Pearls Before Swine have had on Timothy and the band—and I just did—it’s also doing a disservice to Stone Breath. They have, over the years and through incarnations and despite classifications, made something truly unique. This may be psychedelic folk, but it’s also haunting and haunted, ephemeral, full of mystery and beauty that can’t be so easily defined. In the opening line of the first song “The Dead Keep This,” Timothy declares that every word he sings tonight “is fished from the mouth of a corpse.” Every note he plays, every sight he sees comes from the dead, from a dream-world beyond this one—these songs are full of ghosts. Here, Timothy’s smooth baritone is accompanied by sparse instrumentation, the plucked notes hang in the air a moment before fading away as the next sounds. If the song, and album as a whole, had stayed with this simple combination of Timothy’s voice and strings it would have been brilliant. However, part-way into the song he is joined by Prydwyn’s lighter voice and delicate, hypnotic flute. The sound of these two combining their voices and instruments is the sound of the heart and soul of Stone Breath, of two people who know and understand one another and one another’s songs. And this is a magical song, like the strains of some strange music that comes floating from the forest. Follow, and it leads you to a cathedral of trees, branches twining, the green so thick the light is colored by it.

On the proceeding song, “The Winding Way,” Timothy’s and Prydwyn’s voices blend in perfect harmony. Sometimes during the course of the song they veer apart, yet always come back together to enjoin the listener—or perhaps themselves—to follow the hum, to walk their own path wherever it may lead. Here, the instrumentation is more overtly complex, which allows Timothy’s skill as a musician to shine through. It is a glowing, lovely song, a celebratory and sorrowing paean to the path he, they, walks. “Always All One, All Ways Alone” follows and here again Timothy’s ability to play, to sing is remarkable. There’s something in his voice on this song in particular that makes you feel as though you’re hearing expressed just to you one of the most beautiful truths there is, listening to Timothy sing his heart under night sky, deep in some dream of a forest. It is, without doubt, an exceptionally uncommon song—even on an album full of such things.

The next song, “Brother Blood, Sister Moon,” is yet another testament to how very right the combination of Timothy’s and Prydwyn’s voices are. They blend, they part, they blend, each singing their own path, yet those paths always meet again. The sound of the music and of their voices here truly exemplifies Stone Breath’s ability to sound traditionally folk, yet entirely like themselves. No one else does what they do the way they do it. Then, with “All This and Alice,” there is something quite baroque, yet something else in the lower notes that feels very much like a contemplative droning. It’s a ghost of a droning, but it is there. In this song, you can also hear some of the different phases and incarnations of the band. Prydwyn’s shimmering flute opens the song that comes after, “At the Well,” and sets the mood of this lonesome apparition of a song sung into the wind and trees. With it, "Children of Hum" proper ends, with the remaining six songs being bonus material drawn from various places, various incarnations of Stone Breath.

It is, perhaps, a testament to the consistency of the music, of the sound, of the ability they have to express the nearly inexpressible, that this shift from album songs to bonus songs is barely perceptible. These songs still reflect that which has just been heard, even though they were made at different times, with different band members, for different purposes. The droning element that seemed to underpin “All This and Alice” is again in evidence with “Song to the Folding Leaves”—though much more prominently. You can hear it both in the instrumentation and in Timothy’s voice, making this song a compelling, almost forceful, one. The delicate sounding “Just Like the River” is a truly lovely song. Dreamy, ghostly, it is haunting and haunted. This is music that sounds as though it comes to you from some Other place, made by those who are not entirely of this world, who exist in some strange and beautiful land on the border of here and there. Music formed from moonlight and rain, made by those who “sit and sing under the waning moon,” with “Holes in our clothes – spiders in tangled hair,” as Timothy sings in “Starlight Sight.” This is a song that flows and sways like willows on the bank of a green river, but, like all of Stone Breath’s songs, there is that solid core around which the song moves. None of their work is ever lacking in conviction, never does the music want for passion, however delicate it may sound. Sarada’s beautiful, shining silver voice graces “Love in the Devil’s Tongue,” along with Don Belch’s baroque guitar and harpsichord playing. He appears again on the final song, “Dark Veils Part,” which Brooke Elizabeth lends her resonant voice to, adding compliment and counterpoint to Timothy’s own rich voice. There is also an arrangement of the traditional ballad “The Famous Flower of Serving Men,” performed by Timothy and Prydwyn. A beautiful rendition and a song that demonstrates Stone Breath’s ties to traditional folk song and the influence it has had on the way Stone Breath’s songs are constructed, the way the music and words fit together.

Just as important as the music are the illustrations that accompany every Stone Breath album. It is Timothy’s art, and it always completes, and serves as a visual interpretation of, the music. Truly, taken as a whole it is the work of a visionary, of someone who has definite ideas and a need to express those ideas in a way that, itself, grants visions. The art reveals and shows the way, the songs lead you down the path. The cover of "Children of Hum" is graced by a skeleton, bones twined round with vegetation, holding its hand out, a ring on the tip of one bone finger, towards birds and moths. An invitation, a warding away, a letting go, a reaching out towards. Listen, and perhaps you’ll know.

Wrought from the dead, from the winding way, from the trees and the earth, from bone and blood and sacred heart, "Children of Hum" is full of shimmering, devastating beauty. (Amanda Votta)

Over the course of thirteen albums and eighteen years Stone Breath have become one of the (if not the) foremost purveyors of modern wyrd folk, their psychedelic cobwebbed laments having influenced many a band (including my own). At root and dark beating heart they are the work and vision of one man, Timothy Renner, with a rotating cast of companions providing delicate and enchanting accompaniment (Stone Breath always feel more like a family of minstrels than having simply collaborators, indeed Timothy’s splendid dark Holler label is a family run affair). Many have walked amongst Stone Breath’s glades and forests over the years, such as Sarada Holt (also of Belladonna Bouquet) and Carin Wagner Sloan (of The Iditarod). For "Children of Hum" the band are solely Timothy and long-time friend and musical partner, the troubadour and solo artist in his own right Prydwyn.

This then is a stripped back, skeletal, haunted version of Stone Breath following ever expansive, layered classic acid folk fare such as ‘The Silver Skein Unwound’ and 'The Shepherdess And The Bone White Bird’. However this does not mean things have become more basic; in fact it is quite the opposite. The melodies twist and weave like the tendrils of one of artist Arthur Rackham’s trees around complex motifs; cascading harp and banjo creating a veritable forest of sound. The music herein is 100% acoustic and comprised solely of two voices, celtic harp, flute, guitar, bouzouki and whistles. 'The Dead Keep This’ is a spooked and wasted wander through some very dark woods indeed, the harp almost mediaeval and regal. It is an epic opener; at 7 minutes long this sets out the stall of this current incarnation of Stone Breath. ‘The Winding Way’, in which the lyrics describe following the Hum of the album title, is a dérive of dread and damp undergrowth. To this listener The Hum is a statement of belief, a means of describing Timothy’s own spiritual and personal path; a statement of intent.Prydwyn's delicate vocals underpin Timothy’s in a ghostly duet, at once both deeply affecting and chilling. To describe this music as intense doesn’t quite cover it. Fans of The Incredible String Band, COB and Midwinter will find much to love here. ‘Always All One, Always Alone’ is a bleak and bewitched acoustic paean with some Spanish style guitar adding texture and colour, albeit darkly.

There is something sacred about Stone Breath. They exist almost alone and isolated from any scene and are timeless; as much as their music has developed and changed over the years something core remains the same. Perhaps it’s because this is music made from the soul, made because the artist has no other option than to create; these songs are both genuine and real incarnations of Timothy and his vision. ‘Brother Blood, Sister Moon’ is akin to something from the True Detective TV soundtrack; black as midnight, it is a rural gothic masterpiece. Indeed, the atmosphere that Stone Breath can create with only a handful of instruments says a great deal about the strength of Timothy’s song writing; to my mind, he is up there with Clive Palmer, Mike Heron and Tom Rapp. Stone Breath are underground but for those who love them they inspire an almost loyalty and devotion. Again, it’s that sense of something personal and truly ‘real’, that this is music that matters.

'All This and Alice’s eastern raga is mysterious and madrigal like, a call into the desert; when the acoustic rhythm kicks in it is genuinely thrilling. 'At The Well's flute and intricate fingerpicking is like the spider in the song's tale, a web of interweaving lines and harmonies creating something spellbinding and unique. A love song of sorts, it is a hymn of nature. 'Song to the Folding Leaves’ twisted Americana and sitar buzz is a doomed delight, hypnotic and trancelike. ‘Just Like the River’s lute guitar also becomes a haunting drone, this is acoustic music but not in the Nick Drake sense. Instead there is a harshness amongst the beauty and melody that reminds us that Timothy also records as Albawitch, a much more folk and blackened metal proposition. ‘Starlight Sight ‘is a whispered chant into the wind, bouzouki carrying the song onwards under the firmament.

Although comparisons do not hold with a band as unique as Stone Breath if you are partial to Angels of Light, The Iditarod, the Jewelled Antler cohort and acts from The Little Somebody label such Novemthree you will adore this. 'The Famous Flower of Serving Men’ is intense; the bouzouki sounds like it comes from the bowels from hell, the song itself a ballad from the depths. This is the closest here that Stone Breath come to sounding like themore percussive Crow Tongue, an earlier band of Timothy’s whose releases are equally well worth seeking out. ‘Love in the Devils Tongue’ is beautiful acoustic folk, nuanced and played with great tenderness and precision. Sung by Prydwyn, the timeless and ancient heart of Stone Breath beats loudly here; it is heartbreakingly lovely. ‘Dark Veils Part’ is a dark lament with keening vocals blown across the sinister and driven backing. This is Stone Breath at their most powerful, percussion rattling in the raging storm of the music.

Stone Breath are a circle, a wheel of life; they change with the seasons but their nature remains. In that sense each album is distinctly their vision, recognisable but also different from what came before; like the different seasons perhaps. This then is Stone Breath’s autumn, skeletal but with a multitude of warm and varied colours and a deep melancholy. Both this album and their back catalogue cannot be recommended enough. Enter the woods, stray from the path; embrace the sound of Stone Breath. (Grey Malkin)

Housed, as always with Dark Holler releases, in a beautiful sleeve illustrated by Timothy.

Digital and CD both available here:

8 Apr 2014

Dead Meadow "Warble Womb"


Reviewed by Amanda Votta

To be sure, this is not the old Dead Meadow. Though original drummer Mark Laughlin has returned to the fold, it isn’t a signal that there’s been a return to their original sound for the band. The songs aren’t quite as heavy, as spacey, as intoxicated sounding as past albums. There’s something almost country about it, a twang in place of some of the heaviness—but it’s a great rolling desert of country. The vast expanse of space that stretches out under the sky, rolling out towards California and the Pacific Ocean.

The sound here also owes more to the 60’s as well than perhaps could be heard previously. None of these are negative points, however. Every band grows and changes throughout their careers. Some for the better, some for the worse. Some, like Dead Meadow, seem to drift along their way. The way Dead Meadow sounds here isn’t exactly something you couldn’t foresee if you’ve listened to their older material and it seems more a natural evolution than a deliberate attempt to appeal to a broader audience. Not that this is the definition of mainstream, though it does stray more towards accessible than pervious material generally did. Take album opener “Six to Let the Light Shine Thru,” for instance. It has that vast desert country rolling by sound, punctuated by some excellent drumming from Laughlin, along with a bit of a dirtier 60’s groove, topped off with a healthy dose of fuzz—all while maintaining a decidedly melodic tone. It shimmers and shines, but it also knows where it’s headed.

The handful of songs that follow—the coolly mellow “1000 Dreams,” “Yesterday’s Blowin’ Back” and “One More Toll Taker” with acoustic making a notable appearance among them—make up the relatively tamer first half of the album. Tamer, yet still suffused with that glowing, almost pulsating sound they’ve always had.

Then, somewhere around mid-album, something else happens. It starts with “Rains in the Desert” and the song’s resonant bass line, the way the effects on the vocals makes them seem to flash in and out, the fuzzier, heavier guitar sound that remind you that Dead Meadow do still know how to write songs that wander somewhere else, songs that can take you there with them. This becomes even clearer with the second to last song, “This Song Is Over.” Here, on what is my favorite from this album, they take a step away and to the side of the more accessible sound heard on the earlier portion of the album. The quieter vocals, driving, distorted guitars and Laughlin’s again excellent drumming guide over nine minutes of shimmering, haziness to its slowly unfolding conclusion.

This is what Dead Meadow are best at, these songs that are suspended somewhere between soaring through clouds and crawling through earth. If you go back and listen to the first half of the album after hearing these later songs, you can hear just how the one leads to the other and understand how and why their sound has evolved into what it is. Listening to it “in reverse,” you can also pick out better the more subtle ways their evolution has affected the songs they’re making. The sound of the space in which the music was created is here—it’s connected to the physical despite any psychedelic ephemerality, in a good way—and hasn’t been lost to an overly clean production. The life hasn’t been engineered out, either by the more harmonious songwriting or by any recording choices the band have made. Going to the end and then back through the beginning also makes me excited to hear where they go next, which strange road they’ll follow through the huge, open desert and where that will take them.

Available on vinyl, CD, or digital.

7 Apr 2014

Mick Harvey "Four (Acts of Love)"


Reviewed by Amanda Votta

Mick Harvey has had a long and illustrious career. Spending time in The Birthday Party and The Bad Seeds in his earlier days, he’s also made solo albums and film scores, handled production for artists like PJ Harvey and Rowland S. Howard, along with numerous Bad Seeds-related albums. Yet, while he has certainly kept busy throughout his career, his own solo albums seem to be somewhat overlooked in favor of his collaborations. That is criminal though, as his solo work is the equal to anything he ever did in collaboration, or any of his film scores. On his most recent studio album, Four (Acts of Love), he again ably and amply demonstrates his genius, crafting gorgeous, deceptively simple songs that are perfectly constructed. The album itself is a song cycle, divided into three parts, each part dealing with a different aspect of romantic love: loss, reawakening and our struggles with it.

This is, of course, done in the way Mick Harvey does things. It’s an ephemeral, contradictory, and what some might term dark exploration of what love is, what love means and keeps its distance from contemplations on love often found in popular culture. Love, here, won’t necessarily save you or make everything alright, won’t always bring you calm and peace. It will mystify you, lead you down a winding path to a conclusion that isn’t really a conclusion, but another part of the journey. This search for meaning and lack of true conclusion or reassurance is a thread that runs brightly through all of Harvey’s work. Here, the path begins with the beautiful “Praise the Earth (Wheels of Amber and Gold)”—a song structured around a simple, delicate, repeating musical motif that becomes sublime when coupled with Mick Harvey’s voice. The sound of his voice and the way it blends in with yet rises above the instrumentation in a kind of perfect accord thoroughly compliments the music, allowing his words to ring out clearly. He sings of the sun, the moon, the sea and the earth in what sounds to be poignant joy at their beauty. But then, the sun and moon themselves speak through Harvey, reminding us that one day even their light will die. At the end of the song, the question is posed that is contemplated throughout the album: “Our dreams and all that we’ve done, where have they gone?” Based on a hymn originally composed by Reginald Heber, Harvey’s reinterpretation maintains the aura of a sacred song—but a sacred song not without skepticism directed at the divine which it was intended to praise. The PJ Harvey-penned “Glorious” follows, a song that both mourns and celebrates an overwhelming, ruinous love. Though the song is distinctly PJ Harvey’s, having that certain bluesy tone to the music and flair to the lyrics she does so well, and she does duet with him on it, Mick makes it his own entirely. “Where There’s Smoke (Before)” adds a bit of dissonance into the mix and closes out Act 1. The companion to this track, “Where There’s Smoke (After),” opens Act 3 and is infused instead with something almost darkly jazzy. “I Wish That I Were Stone” perhaps best exemplifies Harvey’s ability to masterfully craft a song.

The music itself is fuller yet still delicate and rises and falls in subtle counterpoint to Harvey’s voice. Throughout the three acts are sprinkled a handful of eclectic covers: Van Morrison’s “The Way Young Lovers Do,” The Saint’s “The Story of Love,” Exuma’s “Summertime in New York”—wherein something of Harvey’s past in bands like The Birthday Party can be discerned—and Roy Orbison’s classic “Wild Hearts,” which is stunningly interpreted here. The songs are joined together at times by instrumental interludes; short, atmospheric songs in which Harvey’s skill as a film composer can be heard. “Midnight on the Ramparts” is an excellent illustration of this, in which an echoing whistle rises above the instruments, intimating a quiet longing. At the end of this cyclical journey, we arrive back at the beginning with a second version of “Praise the Earth.” The words “Into the unknown” ring out the end of the cycle, leaving us no wiser than at the start. But when dealing with the subject of love, of the joy and sorrow it can bring, there can be no definitive answer. The rambling, winding journey is all there is.

Available on vinyl, CD, and digital.

21 Dec 2013

Active Listener Writers Share Their Favourite Albums of 2013

I published my favorite 50 albums of the year list here a few weeks back, and a few of my other writers have chimed in with their lists below. Lots of great stuff to be discovered here:

Grey Malkin:
2. Messe I.X –V.I.X- Ulver
3. Malá Morská Víla Soundtrack - Zdenek Liska
4. Warrior At The Edge Of Time Remastered – Hawkwind
5. Morgiana/The Cremator Soundtrack - Zdenek Liska/ Luboš Fišer
6. Omega Original Soundtrack- Michael Begg/Human Greed
7. Spoicke – United Bible Studies
8. Witchfinder General Soundtrack - Paul Ferris
9. The Book of the Lost - The Rowan Amber Mill and Emily Jones
10. Aonaran –Richard Moult

Tom Sandford:
1. Ian Skelly – Cut From A Star 
2. Grant Hart – The Argument 
3. The Kingsbury Manx – Bronze Age 
4. Moby – Innocents 
5. Neils Children – Dimly Lit 
6. Pissed Jeans – Honeys 
7. Wire – Change Becomes Us 
8. My Bloody Valentine – mbv 
9. Queens of the Stone Age – Like Clockwork 
10. Paper Kites – States

Chris Sherman:
1. Svenska Kaputt - Svenska Kaputt
2. Wolf People - Fain
3. Me and My Kites - Like A Dream Back Then
4. Jacco Gardner - Cabinet of Curiosities
5. Kiki Pau - Pines
6. Mazzy Star - Seasons of Your Day
7. Elephant Stone - Elephant Stone

Jason Simpson:
1. Teeth of the Sea - Master
2. Factory Floor - Factory Floor
3. V.A. - The Outer Church compilation
4. Low - The Invisible Way
5. The Stranger - Watching Dead Empires In Decay
6. Emptyset - Recur
7. The Haxan Cloak - Excavations
8. I Am The Lake Of Fire - I Am The Lake Of Fire
9. The Soulless Party - Tales From The Black Meadow
10. Hacker Farm - UHF

Amanda Votta:
1. Mark Lanegan and Duke Garwood – Black Pudding 
2. Mazzy Star – Seasons of Your Day 
3. Stone Breath – Spear of Flame, Horse of Air 
4. Mick Harvey – Four (Acts of Love) 
5. Broadcast - Berberian Sound Studio 
6. Albatwitch – Only Dead Birds Sing Over the Graves of Forgotten Kings 
7. Mark Kozelek & Desertshore – Mark Kozelek & Desertshore 
8. Crime & The City Solution – American Twilight 
9. The Dirtbombs – Ooey Gooey Chewy Ka-Blooey! 
10. Beastmilk – Climax

9 Dec 2013

Volage "Maddie" EP Review

Reviewed by Amanda Votta

Hailing from France, yet with something distinctly American in their sound, Volage play incredibly infectious, poppy yet noisy garage rock. There are hints of surf rock in their harmonies and a swirl of something London psychedelic as well.
“I’m a Fool” is a perfect example of their ability to take cues from a variety of genres and make them work together perfectly, creating a sound that’s distinctly their own. It’s what you might expect if the Beach Boys and the Beatles got together in a studio and in wandered Jefferson Airplane with T. Rex in tow. The fuzzed out guitars, swirly harmonies, and infectiously boppy beat epitomize Volage’s sound and stated band interests of fuzz and flowers.
Their blend of the trashy and the shimmery is what makes them distinct from other bands attempting a similar sound right now—it’s what makes them more memorable, their songs more engaging and infectious. Even on a track like “Bob is Alive,” which has a darker and more menacing overtone than their other songs, they manage to keep that balance. The distorted vocals, fuzzed up even more guitars and more prominent bass line are complimented by an acoustic guitar that weaves in and out of the ever-so-slightly-calmer moments in the song. Its soft tones come and go at just the right moments, serving to keep that hint of a flowery 60’s pop sound alive much like the proverbial street light in the middle of an otherwise dark road.
This balance is also reflected not just in the distortion/brightness contrast, but also in the sound quality itself. This is not an album recorded, mixed and mastered in a top flight studio by over-priced engineers. What it is though is an album that was recorded, mixed and mastered in such a way as to leave the life in the songs, to make them more immediate and therefore more human. The sound is much closer to that heard on a recording from the 60’s than is otherwise heard today, which is a decidedly good thing. There wouldn’t be any grit left to even the bright - that menacing vibe wouldn’t survive intact or come across so well otherwise.
With "Maddie" Volage have concocted a collection of brightly dirty surf and psych tunes that keep that grit front and center, demonstrating that they know the importance of not just a well-structured song, but of a ragged, trashy sound.

Volage on Facebook.

Stream or buy "Maddie" on 10" Vinyl here.

31 Oct 2013

Happy Halloween - Our Writer's Picks For the Season

This year I pressured my writers into a particularly difficult task - to put together a playlist of just five of their favorite Halloween tunes each - I deliberately left this brief fairly open so that you'd see a number of different approaches and get to know our diverse little team a bit better.

Hope you enjoy what you hear.

GREY MALKIN

As chief architect of the often creepy The Hare & The Moon, the mysterious Grey Malkin is better qualified than most to approach this task.

1. The Rattles - The Witch.
Chilling and completely bonkers.
2. Christopher Komeda -Rosemary's Baby
It's impossible to think of this movie without the vocal part of Komeda's soundtrack coming to mind. An unsettling classic.
3. Steeleye Span - Long Lankin.

He lives in the moss. He's out there. Lock your windows!
4. Sunn O))) and Nurse With Wound - Ash On The Trees.
A musical partnership forged in Hell, Stapleton and O' Malley create the perfect aural nightmare. Hiding under the bed is no escape.
5. Faun Fables - Eyes Of A Bird.

Both witchy and beautiful, Faun Fables are the ideal Samhain soundtrack. Light those lanterns!


CHERYL THORNTON

"After coping with one too many student Halloween nights where the Ghostbusters theme tune gets played at least a dozen times, (it doesn’t matter how drunk I am, I know what you’re doing), I’ve come to the conclusion that nothing beats some delicious house-party Halloween debauchery. Budget decorations, homemade cocktails, but best of all - control over the music. Making playlists is fun at the best of times, but there’s something special about doing a Halloween one. At the risk of babbling on about the art of a good playlist, I’ll just say two things; one – it’s all about the atmosphere, and two – keeping this down to five tracks is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. Probably. Here’s my pick of what I would include. Stick these on while black and white episodes of the Twilight Zone play in the background and your make up begins to melt down your face.
Happy Halloween!"

1. The Attack – Strange House 
‘It was strange...in his house...’ Some killer 60’s UK psych to open it up. That bass.
2. Night Beats - A Night with Nefertiti 
Yes please. Some dark and dirty US garage to get things grooving.
3. White Noise -Love Without Sound 
Stumble to the punch bowl (was it always that colour?) and fill up a cup as lines about labyrinth eyes and perfumed electric gardens echo mysteriously out. The sound effects are already there (and you’re never too old for the convenience/surprise of a punch bowl).
4. Death in Vegas – Dirge 
Got to have some Death in Vegas on there. This one suits the evolving concept of my playlist pretty nicely – re-animated beings allowed to love again for one night...
5. Spider and the Flies – Autochrome 
I like my Halloween nights to be doused in B-movie vibes. Some Spider and the Flies (Tom Cowan and Rhys Webb from The Horrors) will do the trick. It’s all go from here...


AMANDA VOTTA

"Halloween is a lot of things to me. It’s a day to dress up, invert the standard, be something you both are and aren’t. It’s a time when things aren’t as they seem, when streetlights look more sinister, when the wind may carry whispers, when that thing you thought you saw out the corner of your eye really was there. It’s eerie and autumnal in that way that makes it feel like it’s a time out of time, something suspended between. That’s the essence of what it is; the carnivalesque, the liminal. It’s also, like the Mexican Day of the Dead to which it bears a resemblance, a day to remember those you’ve lost. I usually favor songs that remind me of these things—the absurd, the spooky, the departed. I’ve tried to include something of each here in my list."

1. The Jim Carroll Band – People Who Died 
As the title says, this is a song in which Jim recounts people he’s known who have died—“They were all my friends, and they died”—reminding you of everyone you’ve lost but being up-tempo enough that you don’t feel completely oppressed by the though.
2. Stone Breath – Flowers on Your Grave
I know of no better song about a ghostly friend than this, and no one better to sing such a song than Timothy. It, and Stone Breath encapsulate the eeriness of the day, the inbetween-ness, like no one else could.
3. Bauhaus – Dark Entries 
It isn’t Halloween without a little Bauhaus, who perfectly evoke that slightly sinister feeling of walking home from your Halloween party at some ungodly hour, feeling like you’re alone, but not alone.
4. Neko Case – Furnace Room Lullaby
This particular song reminds me of Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart” – of being haunted by a strange and terrible thing, being consumed by an obsession, becoming something you didn’t think you were or could be.
5. Mark Kozelek – Green Hell 
Mark’s cover of the Misfits song makes it sound both more absurd and more depressing than the original and so it unsettles and disturbs in a way—he means it, he’ll shake apart, but this hell is like any other, just kinda green.


JASON SIMPSON

As well as writing for us Jason has his own blog, "Forestpunk" which is full of this sort of stuff. Investigate.

1. Zombie Zombie - Halloween Theme - ft. Alan Howarth. 
Famed Carpentcore bring John Carpenter's eerie minimalist to rockist life, in this case performing with Carpenter's musical companion Alan Howarth. Get it started.
2. The Gate - (dialog) - The Old Gods!
In the tradition of classic horror mixtapes, here's a bit of movie dialog from 1987's "The Gate". Remember, The Old Gods are out there, in the darkness, just waiting for their chance to take back creation. Great movie.
3. Children Of The Stones Theme
I thought your party could use a bit of dark ambiance, so picked out the theme from hauntological staple "Children Of The Stones", full of atonal choirs, whispering winds. Evokes the feeling of an ancient stone circle on the moors.
4. Mater Suspiria Vision feat. Scout Klas -The Labyrinths of Venice
Can't have TOO much dark ambiance, so here's some excellent witch house from the head of Phantasma Disques. The video is taken from "Don't Look Now", a classic psychotropic British ghost story that is worth seeking out. Nice and grainy. Nice and bloody.
5. Sergei Rachmaninov - Isle of the Dead, Op. 29
Found this specially for this playlist, it's become a staple in my daily listening habits. Its a symphonic poem, based upon the painting by Arnold Böcklin, it's surreal and impressionistic, using orchestral themes to give the feeling of the spray of water, the smell of charcoal, and the whispers of dread. We all could use more classical music in our lives. It inspires us, and reminds us how it could be done.


THE ACTIVE LISTENER

It wouldn't be fair for me to dodge the bullet myself after putting the rest of my writer's to the task so here's my own contribution to finish things off.

1. Daniela Casa - Occultismo
The most ominous track from perhaps the creepiest library LP of all time, Daniela Casa's "Societa Malata"
2. Mr Fox - Mendle
At the creepiest end of the original U.K folk-rock spectrum lies this drone laden anthem from the Peggs.
3. Pram - The Owl Service
Inspired by Alan Garner's classic young adult's novel, Pram launch into a surprisingly funky early hauntological precursor which has proven hugely influential.
4. H.P Lovecraft - At The Mountains of Madness
One of two adaptations of Lovecraft short stories by this excellent U.S psychedelic folk-rock outfit - a personal favorite.
5. John Carpenter - The Fog
No Halloween is complete without Mr Carpenter's input, and while his score for "Halloween" remains the pinnacle of modern horror cinema, his slightly more understated work on "The Fog"is deserving of more attention also.