Smoke Fairies - Ghosts

453 Music

It can get lonely, living with ghosts/you're in my heart 'till I die. - Smoke Fairies, “Living with Ghosts”

A disclaimer before listening to Ghosts: If you're not careful, loud English folk duo Smoke Fairies will consume you. With their swampy blues riffs, exquisite harmonies, and formidable command of songwriting, Smoke Fairies is truly enchanting. You might not believe that a nine-song collection (billed as “a collection of A-sides, B-sides, and an EP from the recent past”) would have such a mighty power. There's no harm in skepticism. But you'd be wrong.

I'm not the only one who's been thoroughly taken in by Smoke Fairies' many charms. Following last year's release of their EP “Frozen Heart,” they shared UK tour dates with The Handsome Family and Richard Hawley (formerly of Pulp), and performed at a variety of prominent British music festivals, including Latitude and Glastonbury. They also had the good fortune of opening for Jack White's latest group, The Dead Weather; White has since gone to release a limited edition Smoke Fairies vinyl 7-inch on his label, Third Man Records.

Indeed, Katherine Blamire and Jessica Davies have been keeping some good company. That's because good recognizes good, and Smoke Fairies are most decidedly that. Theirs is a dark roiling sound buoyed by their preternaturally beautiful voices. Hints of Fairport Convention, Eliza Carthy, Cowboy Junkies, and Mazzy Star all emerge from these songs.

Their lyrics are full of a simple classic poeticism. Listeners find this exemplified in such songs as “Sunshine” (“red sky descends in the morning/feels like I'm never awake for the warning”) and “Troubles” (“I drew my demons out to the snow ... drawn together like moths to light/never believing we burn so bright”). “When You Grow Old” is also a great example. In it, a woman wonders what lasting impact her love will have on a former lover, and whether he will someday “take a wife.” She then responds to her own wonder in kind with these wise, poignant words: “But people like me/we're not the marrying kind/but who will hold us/when we reach our time?”

Locked in an oppressive summer heat, it came as no small comfort to listen to something so... wintry. You can almost feel the crunch of new snow under your shoes as you trod lightly through each song. There's a compulsion to put on a coat, and then, as the album progresses, to draw it tighter around you.

Be not misled by the chilly description, though. The world within Smoke Fairies' Ghosts is cold, but certainly not stark. Yet if you're looking for an invigorating pick-me-up, Ghosts is right out. That's okay, though. From the second the CD arrived, I found myself transfixed. I've been unable to stop listening to it. This is the musical equivalent of laudanum: reminiscent of a bygone era, potent, drowsy, generating an all-encompassing high–and a highly addictive one at that.

Review by M. Brianna Stallings

Mountain Man - Made The Harbor

Bella Union/Partisan Records

It’s deeply problematic that my first thought it is to compare the Mountain Man ladies to the men of Fleet Foxes. Why must my point of reference be boy bands, so to speak? But truly, Mountain Man sounds like a fusion of two bands, both gender-segregated, that I adore: Fleet Foxes and Au Revoire Simone. Simple, reverberating, mostly a cappella harmonies meet woodsy charm and the sparseness of a cold winter’s night, and these ladies sing about lovely, folksy evergreen topics such a soft skin, affectionate nicknames, sitting on the back stairs drinking good beer in the summer air, and dancing at the hall while the band was playing.

Song titles with animal themes are prominent—“Loon Song,” “Honeybee,” “White Heron”—and while they don’t necessarily nod to their namesakes, they certainly incorporate woodsy creature folklore.

The sweat will roll down our backs
And we’ll follow animal tracks
To a tree in the woods in a hole in the leaves where we’ll see
The bright baby eyes of a chickadee

“How’m I doin’” is the most adorably infectious track, a nod to perfectionism and doing the best one can. It even sounds like the women utter the word “yins”—shorthand for “you ones” where I’m from, a variant of “y’all.” Wishful hearing or not, I’m smitten.

Even their digital recordings have a nearly tactile quality, like an old LP spinning on a turntable, scratches and bumps clearly audible. These mountain (wo)men, though they met as Vermont co-eds instead of across a campfire, get so many things right on Made the Harbor and offer up truly inspiring gospel-tinged folk greatness. This is one of my favorite albums of the year so far.

Review by Brittany Shoot

Anaïs Mitchell - Hadestown

Righteous Babe Records

Before reviewing the album, I have to admit, Ani Difranco and Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, who are both major contributors to the project, definitely rake up the most counts on my iTunes top played lists. Bias.

That said however, Anaïs Mitchell’s folk opera Hadestown is a masterful album in its own right, originally beginning in 2006 as a live show that toured New England with a cast of twenty-two performers. The show, and now complete album, is an impressive Americana retelling of the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice that evokes a feel of Depression-era America and a doomed future in which all desperately seek to preserve their power, freedom, and riches.

Researching the mythical story a bit so I could understand the compelling narration of the album, I found that it is a love story about Orpheus, a poet who swayed Hades with his beautiful music to bring back his beloved Eurydice from the underworld. As I already alluded to, Mitchell’s ambitious, bold, fourth album is a collaborative project, with the lead singer of Bon Iver as Orpheus (my all-time favorite), Ani DiFranco as Persephone (the strong-willed wife of Hades), Greg Brown as Hades ("king of the kingdom of dirt") and Mitchell as Eurydice, the beautiful young woman seduced into Hades' underworld.

"I recognized in the Orpheus character something a lot of artists feel: his heartbreaking optimism," observes Mitchell. "In the underworld, the rules are the rules, you don’t get a dead person back—but Orpheus believes if he can just sing/play/write something beautiful enough, maybe he can do the impossible, move the heart of stone, get through to someone. I've felt that feeling..." And alas, an incredible album is born, complete with human emotion, social commentary, and an incredibly impressive artistic collaboration.

In general, the lovely Vermont singer-songwriter has a unique, eclectic style all her own, but has definitely been influenced by "the earthiness of Shawn Colvin, the child-like bite of Joanna Newsom, and the urban jumpiness of Ani DiFranco." As this reviewer continues, "These elements, as disparate as they might seem, come together as nicely as cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg" (Margaret Reges, Allmusic.com). In January 2008, I was actually lucky enough to see Mitchell play shortly after she was taken up by Difranco’s Righteous Babe Records, opening a show for the extraordinary anti-folk goddess herself.

Back to the album, Hadestown is definitely the most creative, inspired folk album I have heard in the past couple years, bringing a fresh perspective to the mythic tradition and timeless themes of power, love and desperation. Listen—to the feature on NPR or buy it—but listen to it all the way through. Even if the Americana style generally doesn’t appeal to you, and I admit it normally doesn’t for me, the inspired and compelling narration, craft, and featured artists on the album come together and truly form something magical.

Review by Abigail Chance

Gaida - Levantine Indulgence

Palmyra Recordings

Singer and composer Gaida’s debut album Levantine Indulgence is named for Levant, the Fertile Crescent’s desert oasis. Aptly named, this album offers listeners an abundance of vocal and instrumental styles that even the most resistant listeners can find nourishing and enchanting.

The opening track, “Dream,” begins with rhythmic clapping and percussion and a chorus of male voices who share vocals with the lead singer. I should clarify by referring to sharing and “trading.” This distinction is important because the contrast of Gaida’s voice with the male singers makes this short song into a true performance. The vocal banter between Gaida and the men reminded me of a musical where the lead female actor is center stage and the men in the chorus sing to her with the purpose of wooing or impressing her. But in the case of “Dream,” the men sing with Gaida at the end of the song. Unlike a traditional musical from an earlier era, where the woman needs to fend off potential suitors with clever lyrics and a silky voice, in this modern version Gaida works with the men, but the song is still decidedly hers.

“Kaifa Uhibuka” transports the listener to a smoky, jazz club with purple walls and red, plush booths. When I close my eyes and listen to this track, I’m a patron of this club, sipping gin and smoking a clove cigarette, while I lean back into my lush surroundings to enjoy the music. I despise gin and I no longer smoke, but the song evokes feelings of real or imagined indulgence, and yet sadness. I felt that this song represented the overall mood of the album even more than the title track.

Another track that evoked this mood was the beautiful ballad “Ghayeb.” The piano, cello, and flute blend with Gaida’s vocals to create a song that expresses love, longing, and caring. Despite the fact that the lyrics are not in English, my eyes filled with tears as I listened to “Ghayeb.” Without even knowing what Gaida was saying, I could feel the pain and loss in her voice. When you hear a song like this, it can cause you to have a flashback to a situation that may have been painful, or one that caused you to feel a sense of bittersweet regret. Granted, this isn’t exactly a desirable feeling, but if a song can make you feel this way, I think that’s pretty powerful.

Gaida has lived in Germany, Damascus, Detroit, Paris, Kuwait, and New York. Through the incorporation of jazz, bossa nova, ballad, Tarab (ecstasy) songs, Arab folk, and traditional Arabic maqam (modes) and improvisational style in her music, it is easy to see that she has carried pieces of these places with her as she has traveled the globe. Some people would create a scrapbook or a photo album of their diverse living experiences; Gaida has produced an audio diary of her musical and emotional journeys, and the listener can feel her sentiment with beat of the bass, the raining piano notes, and memorable melodies. On the album cover, the artist in fact states that she, “will always sing with tears close to my eyes, beats pounding my fragile heart, and care wrapping the entire world.”

By Rachel Muzika Scheib

Summer People - Good Problems

Red Leader Records

Ah, spring time on a New England college campus! I always forget what it’s like when everyone emerges out of the stacks of the library, poorly-lit dorms, and stuffy classrooms to congregate on the sunny main green. Amid intellectual circle-discussions, shirtless Frisbee tosses, romantic lunches, and hipster dance parties, the upstate New York band Summer People couldn’t have picked a better time to release Good Problems, a seemingly perfect soundtrack for this cultural phenomenon.

Eight people collaborated on Good Problems, which was recorded live with no effects, giving it a gritty, authentic feel. Thirteen tracks is awfully ambitious for a freshman project, but the Summer People’s debut proves to be a noteworthy, sophisticated, eclectic mix of classic rock, folk, punk, and indie sounds. Each track evokes a completely different experience of sounds and moods, yet the album as a whole comes together seamlessly and brilliantly.

Several songs on Good Problems give the airy, folksy feel of Fleet Foxes or Death Cab for Cutie, including “Two Hearted River,” “The Other Side,” and “Curtained Rain.” With cheery lyrics, chants, handclaps, and guitar, these tracks produce a delicate acoustic sound that greatly contrast with the other, more traditionally alternative rock vibe of “Shallow Water People,” “Balcony,” and “Two Truths.” With slow buildups to loud percussion and the occasional off-key screaming, some reviewers have commented on the “bi-polar mood swings” of these tracks, and really, the album as a whole. It swings back down to a more melancholic, electric, instrumental feel with “For Giving In” and “The Sun Was Up,” which have a similar to sound to Sigur Rós- both poetic and haunting.

While not everyone will appreciate the experimental, artsy sound of Good Problems's, both the messy rock tracks and the poetic mellow instrumentals match the eclectic conglomeration of warm weather gatherings, and is a perfect fit to the desperate enjoyment of the sun right before the exam-time crunch. As the title of the album suggests, despite the stress, college life is filled with generally good problems.

Review by Abigail Chance

Carrie Rodriguez - Live in Louisville

Luz Music

“Well you have it, you love it, now it’s your turn to shove it…I don’t want to play house anymore,” sings Carrie Rodriguez on her newly released live compilation album, Live in Louisville. Her soulful voice, accompanied by rousing fiddles, makes her point with grace and force. The tunes on the album come from Rodriguez’ various other projects, but the most colorful are those she takes the credit for writing.

“I Don’t Want to Play House Anymore,” “Seven Angles on a Bicycle,” (from the album of the same name), and “Never Gonna Be Your Bride” are among the more upbeat sounds on the album, but that doesn’t mean the rest are purely maudlin. The slower tracks on the album are as much soulful as they are haunting.

The eclectic sounds of her band would put her solidly in an Americana, that amalgam of roots music that revisions country, folk, and blues, but the unique twists and turns of her voice bridge the renewed attention to the genre with more traditional bluegrass and even the more sentimental songwriting of Jewel, Indigo Girls, and Julie Roberts (of country fame).

There is an element of the unexpected in each song, whether it’s a musical bridge or a turn of phrase, and the dusky sound of Rodriguez’s voice seems to make her the perfect candidate for a closing credits track on HBO’s True Blood—a new Grey’s Anatomy of sorts for launching the hottest new music.

Rodriguez can please the country in you while reminding you through her pertinent lyrics that you’re alive, you share in disasters and joys like the rest of us. And just as you’re ready to dismiss one track as too country or too slow, the next places you squarely in New Orleans among an impromptu fiddle fest or back into a dark, dank bar with a lonely mic.

Live in Louisville's variety—in voice and vision—is well worth a listen.

Review by Dr. Julie E. Ferris

Christy and Emily - No Rest

Klangbad

Brooklyn songstress roommates, longtime collaborators, and bestie brunettes Christy Edwards and Emily Manzo have hipster cred out the wazoo. So do loads of other borough-based bands, but few have the raw talent of these two singer-songwriter women—a label that hardly defines the true depth of their talent. Their music, at times hauntingly sparse, reverberates with their lush voices and minimal instrumentation, often just Christy’s guitar or Emily’s keyboard. Sound cloying? The opposite is true. There is nothing pretentious or difficult about this album.

On No Rest, their second release this year, the gals focus on teasing out their folk influences, veering away from their psychedelic roots. At the same time, they maintain their sound experimentation and focus less on complicated lyrics. Lines like “Why not live a life of truth/Like your siblings” could be as autobiographical as they could be creative poetry put to music. No matter that their words are uncomplicated; every sound out of their mouths is truly beautiful, and there is additional beauty in simplicity.

“Idle Hands” has some of the best rhythmic composition on the album and draws to mind a more serious Girls Guitar Club, starting Christy and Emily instead of Karen Kilgariff & Mary Lynn Rajskub.

“Here Comes the Water Now” is a nod to natural disaster—and how unfortunately timely. The nearly rhyming lyrics—which pay off at the end—kept me fully engaged with the story as well as the music.

You’re gonna have to leave your home
You’re gonna have to go and roam
Wanna know why, I wanna know how
Here comes the water

Better decide on what to bring
Take a look around at everything
There’s only so much time will allow
Here comes the water... now

Closing track “Amaryllis”—which is coincidentally my favorite flower—uses the annual as a metaphor for periods of light and darkness. If you’ve never cared for these bulbous houseplants, just know that they’re like any other bulb. After blooming in the spring, they require months of darkness during the winter. In my experience, this typically means putting them in a large paper bag and tucking them in a dark corner until the springtime frost has vanished. C&E no doubt like these big horn-shaped flowers, as they’ve dedicated a whole song to them and sing, “Oh how lovely the plant you keep in the dark.”

From the album’s opening line—“I’m not scared of what I can’t see anymore”—to the sonic waves, gorgeous vocals, and wind chime-type sound effects, this album will mesmerize you. Let it.

Review by Brittany Shoot

Mighty Tiger - Western Theater

Paper Garden Records

Mighty Tiger are the sort of band to open for Animal Collective or Grizzly Bear on tour—and not just because of their similar four-legged names. It’s easy to compare bands in folksy sub-genres, but the truth is, Mighty Tiger are a solid pop-driven fit among more established bands of similar persuasion.

On Western Theater, Mighty Tiger do what other comparable bands do not. They lean on alt-country traditions and add a layer of pop jubilance that makes their folk-country rock a pleasantly danceable treat. This Seattle-based quintet also creates soothing harmonies a la Sufjan Stevens, whereas their freak folk counterparts often make discordant, if enjoyable, sounds.

Maybe because I recently started trying my hand at chess again, board tucked away since childhood battles against my father, the song “Rook and King” drew me in almost immediately. The song also rhymes “Alsatian” and “fornication,” which is somehow incredibly endearing. I should dust off my rhyming dictionary along with my pawns.

Another favorite, the seven-minute “The Most American Thing in America,” would be a perfect addition to a moody, road-trip-ready mix-tape. Admittedly, I haven’t had a tape player in my car since 2000, and even then, I was pretty old school for carting around cassettes of indie hits compiled by friends with far superior tastes. Nevertheless, epic songs make me smile, and this one is no exception. Over and over, the guys repeat, “And we won’t hold on for too long.” I’m all for closure.

On tour this spring in southern and western regions, you can catch Mighty Tiger at South By Southwest and elsewhere, with support from Grand Hallway.

Review by Brittany Shoot

Alicia Bay Laurel - Beyond Living

Indigo With Stars

As the title of this album suggests, Beyond Living is a collection of folk songs about death, many of them written by musicians who have passed. Alicia Bay Laurel, known for her 1971 guide to sustainable living entitled Living On Earth, collected and recorded many of the songs on this album in response to a number of deaths she encountered in recent years, including, most notably, legendary Japanese singer-songwriter Takashi Donto Kudomi, who died in 2001 at a hula performance. Songs from artists from several countries round out this decidedly international album.

While the album's theme might suggest darkness, the album feels more like a celebration. As Laurel's liner notes suggest “lyrics about death contain valuable instructions for living,” and these songs are no exception. Their cheery melodies, vocals, and a fingerpicked guitar mix with deep sadness in the manner I associate with children's songs (Remember when you found out “Ring-Around-the-Rosie” was about The Plague?) The album invites the listener to engage with the certainty of death and to feel the relish that reality brings to living. Much like listening to the blues, listening to these songs provides a deep and pleasurable access to human emotion.

Beyond Living contains a few medleys that mix thematically related songs, including “Ruminations,” a twelve-minute instrumental track. It also often includes spoken word English translations within the song, a device I enjoyed the first time, but found tiring upon repetition. Repetition, in general, was my primary issue with the album. While I enjoyed individual songs, I found the experience draining as a whole. Perhaps that was the point; after all, what could be more predictable than death?

Review by H. V. Cramond