This is a combination essay and music review. If you’re more interested in Jenny and Tyler’s latest music than the state of the music industry, skip to the paragraph starting with “So you may be thinking”.
I know three things about the current state of the music industry:
1. People want to hear new music.
2. Business models are changing.
3. Music bloggers haven’t stopped writing about music.
The forward-thinking indie-folk/indie-rock duo Jenny & Tyler understand all of these trends and have come up with an impressive way to respond to all three. Album One [Patreon] gives the people what they want in a way that makes monetary sense for the duo and in a format that bloggers can write about. Everybody wins!
The thing J&T use to pull this coup off is right there in the title:Album One [Patreon] is only available if you’re a patron of Jenny and Tyler’s Patreon account. (However, you can see a trailer for the album on Facebook.) For those unfamiliar with Patreon, it’s a subscription service where fans of an artist can pledge to pay money to the artist on a set schedule (per month, per piece of media, etc.) in return for a reward. Jenny and Tyler are using Patreon to record and release a new song at the incredibly prolific rate of one a week, every week. All listeners who subscribe to the Patreon get to hear and download these songs. [I pay $5 a month–roughly $1 per song, or basically iTunes rates. (Remember iTunes? Good times.)] As a result of this process, Jenny and Tyler are guaranteed some monthly income and listeners get 4-5 new Jenny and Tyler songs a month.
So that’s how Jenny and Tyler give the people more new music in a sustainable way. But Patreon music is tough to review: the music lives behind a paywall, arrives incrementally over a long period of time, and often represents the sort of work not really intended for review (such as demos, never-gonna-be-released b-sides, live takes, etc.). To compound these logistical troubles, most music reviewers don’t have enough business income to subscribe to the Patreon account of every band they want to review music from. As such, this is the first Patreon account I’ve ever covered at Independent Clauses, despite the fact that I know the service well enough to fund a non-IC project of my own.
Jenny and Tyler have so far made two savvy moves with their Patreon:
a. releasing high-quality, “real” songs and
b. packaging the first 10 songs they released on Patreon as an album.
In eschewing goofy b-sides, live recordings, listener updates, and other types of content that can all (very satisfyingly) populate a Patreon, they are experimenting with how they get paid for the main work that they do.* Making Patreon central to their work instead of peripheral to it is an important, savvy move. They are certainly not the only people doing this, but it makes the other savvy move even more smart. By packaging their songs released on Patreon as an album, it shows off that the work they are doing on the Patreon is not extraneous to their discography: if you want to be a person following J&T’s full discography, Patreon is the way they are releasing this latest era of their work. It is an important message that helps let people know that the duo is serious about Patreon and hopefully will transform more people who were initially skeptical into subscribers.
The second thing it does is show to the media and bloggers that they want this work to be considered for media in the same way as a studio album. (And I know how to review albums.) The album has credits, liner notes, lyrics, album art, and more–all the materials I would expect from a studio album. I’m picking up this review of my own accord instead of getting a pitch from J&T, but I would love to see musicians compile content from Patreon accounts as J&T have done and then take the next step of pitching it to me for review. I want this to happen because it meets this blog’s goals: it gives me more stuff to review, keeps me on the cutting edge of developments in the field, and allows me to help artists (by promoting the artist’s money-making Patreon). I have always wanted to help artists here at Independent Clauses–in an era where “go buy this” is archaic and press quotes are getting less valuable than they used to be, I’m looking to find the best ways to help artists get up and on in their careers.
So you may be thinking: “Okay, so, cool, music business, yes, neat, but I’m reading a music review blog. Is the music good? Is this just an odds-and-ends affair? Is the quality low?” To wit: yes, no, no. Album One shows off the increasingly mature songwriting and rock-solid production skills of Jenny & Tyler. The song-a-week constraints that they’re working with don’t diminish the quality of the songwriting or recording one bit: instead, these songs are sharp, well-arranged, and carefully developed.
I’ve been following Jenny and Tyler’s career via reviews here at Independent Clauses for a long time. Their earliest work was light, warm, fun folk-pop, while mid-era work such as Faint Not created huge, dramatic towers of sound from folk underpinnings. Album One encompasses both of these poles: “When the Sun Shines Bright” is a beachy, sun-dappled, easygoing tune; highlight “Stars Shone Over Nashville” is about as sonically thundering as anything they’ve yet put together. The rest of the album falls somewhere between: “I Miss You” is as bass-heavy as it is emotionally heavy, opener “Wrote Us a Story” has a romantic lyric and a deftly handled piano/guitar arrangement that sounds bigger than just two instruments, and “Hills and Valleys” is a yearning solo tune with Jenny behind a guitar. The quality of these songs is very high: “Stars Shone,” “Wrote Us a Story” and “When You Awake” are some of the most emotionally moving, melodically interesting songs Jenny and Tyler have yet penned.
But what’s more amazing than the previously-proven fact that Jenny and Tyler can write great songs is that the song-a-week arrangements are often complex, layered, and dense. Patreon supporters are not getting raw demos, scratch tracks, or castoff songs. Tyler is becoming quite adept as a producer and engineer, experimenting with approaches and instruments (like the electronic beats in “Home”) in a satisfying way. The mixes are well-developed, keeping the vocals at the fore but also allowing the instruments to shine. In short, these songs are the real deal.**
This approach to Patreon (and Patreon overall) is not for every artist. Some people permanently need an editor and should not be releasing as much music as Jenny and Tyler are here. But Jenny and Tyler shine in this medium: producing lots of work in a short span of time has tightened their work instead of lessening it. Their musical muscles are trained and flexed here. I’m excited to see what the next album brings. If you’re a fan of emotionally-driven folk-pop with full arrangements, you should be supporting this Patreon and getting Album One. This album specifically is a strong continuation of themes they have developed in their career, and their overall Patreon project is a thoughtful way to develop their career. It helps Jenny and Tyler be more sustainable financially, and you’ll get a lot of Jenny and Tyler music. What isn’t great about that?
*There is a longer discussion to be had here about what the role of the album is in a Patreon world, but that is an essay for another day. Suffice it to say for now: I think that you can do things with studio albums that you can’t do with Patreon albums and vice versa. Both have a place.
**Now, there’s definitely room for “definitive versions” of these songs to appear: there’s more work in a studio that could result in something closer to the hugely coordinated song choices, lyrical themes, and sonic contours of Faint Not. This is a different take on Jenny and Tyler than the studio, and it is fantastic.
Tim de Vil and His Imaginary Friends‘ Beating Off the Loneliness is an indie pop album with vocals that skew toward the speak/sing of Say Anything or MeWithoutYou. The arrangements are deeply layered, compiled from acoustic and electronic instruments: some songs pile up found sounds and synths and drums and all sorts of stuff into a wistful, rueful amalgam that yet retains energy (“Purge-atory,” “The Patron Saint of Lost Causes”). Songs like “Who’s Afraid of Sarah Little” and “It’s Not Me, It’s You” are indie-folk ramblers instead of collages. These latter songs have occasional vocal melodies (“Say It…”), but the gold moments appear when lead singer Justin Robbins expertly controls the mood and tone of his spoken word–he can pack a lot of emotional power into individual lines.
Lyrically, this one is very much a breakup album, but it’s more in the mold of Spiritualized’s punchy Ladies and Gentlemen, We Are Floating in Space and Josh Ritter’s “everything that happened after the breakup” lyrical approach to The Beast in Its Tracks than a mopefest. (Not that I don’t love a good mopefest.) As is often the case with speak/sing work, the lyrics are dense and carefully constructed, despite sounding off-the-cuff; there are pop culture references (“Sleepy Hollow,” for example), emotional monologues, and word games to be had (like the title of “Hail, Mary”). The sum of all these parts is a fully-realized statement of an album that clearly shows Tim De Vil’s songwriting and lyrical skills. Fans of collage artists, spoken word ramblers, or experimental indie-pop will find much to enjoy here.
A translation of the live music experience to a recorded format often loses the jazz that makes the listening audience jive, but this one keeps it going. Celebrating that incredible connection between us all, One Night Records has released Live at Nectar’s, capturing the work of jazz guitar genius Melvin Sparks just months before his passing. This performance from the sixty-four year old guitarist became his final legacy to his fans.
The idea of jazz guitar came about in the 1930s as a result of amplification helping guitars to be heard over the full sound of big bands. This humble birth blasted forward with a sound that electrified audiences. At twenty years old, Sparks had a career that began with the likes of Curtis Mayfield and Marvin Gaye; this connection to soul is apparent to new listeners and fans alike. The nine song album (including two tracks available here only) is a lifetime of jazz soul. Produced and mixed by Eddie Roberts with release curation by Simon Allen (both of The New Mastersounds), Live at Nectar’s is issued for the first time in limited edition vinyl.
At the venue’s recommendation, two variables were thrown into the mix: Dave Grippo on alto saxophone and Brian McCarthy on tenor saxophone (known as The Grippo Horns). This spark thrown into the musical amalgamate that included organist Beau Sasser and drummer Bill Carbone, creating a true vibe of unpredictability for the music ahead. This group of musicians spans generations, a beautiful fact that is lost in the translation to multi-track tape to all but the most diehard of jazz fans. But because of their huge amount of experience, the outfit’s loving attention to detail puts listeners in the room, every nuance soaring in twisting spirals of melody.
Jazz is fluid and builds off of each piece of the puzzle to create. Songs like “Miss Riverside” show a flair for the solo work that came later in the evolution of the genre. But the brilliant thing here is the fact that the set is sprinkled with covers of well known songs. The band breathes new life into “Ain’t No Woman (Like the One I Got).” Standards like “Breezin’” are here for listeners, as Sparks illustrates the life in each note of guitarwork, be it intricate or subtle. All the guitarwork is purposefully defying the definition of jazz as a free musical style with no set rules of performance.
“Whip! Whop!” is a bit of genius that effortlessly fuses together bits of funk, jazz, blues, and classical quips of music seamlessly. A bit of this treasure is the fact that Melvin Sparks and the audience interact here, a true live album. “Cranberry Sunshine” hits that cool vibe that makes the guitarist so great; subtle yet intricate it is the best of what jazz is.
Texas-born Melvin Sparks was brought up on rhythm & blues. Those influences infiltrate his guitar style on songs like “Fire Eater,” throwing in a toe tapping groove. “Hot Dog” and “Thank You” are only available on the album, songs that brilliantly fuse funk and soul into an uptempo party. These two are a fitting way to head out of an album, produced by artists in Allen and Roberts, who honor the talent that has gone before their own. —Lisa Whealy
Breakup songs are a inextricable part of the American id, and as such they are a dime a dozen. However, sometimes a collection of breakup songs can emerge from the pack by tweaking the formula of “introspective exploration of emotional brokenness” in ways that shine a new light on the situation. Josh Ritter’s The Beast in Its Tracks pulls this trick by focusing on all that happened after the marriage ended, while The Pinkerton Raid‘s Tolerance Ends, Love Begins joins the category by focusing on the specific history of the relationship instead of the narrator’s emotions. These solid lyrics are floated by great indie rock arrangements that call up comparisons to “serious music” like The National and Fleetwood Mac.
While the songs don’t seem to be in strict chronological order, the narrative of a whole relationship can be pieced together from the nine songs of the record. (I’ll leave the details to you, because that’s part what makes this record so engaging.) In that way, it shares some thematic and emotional connections with movies that are interested in the same thing, such as 500 Days of Summer. The most difficult emotional punch of the non-linear chronology comes from the back-to-back listing of the exuberant microcosm (“meet cute“-to-breakup) of “Deeper than Skin” and the tumultuous, angry argument of “Don’t”–it recalls the big leap from “Riches and Wonders” to “The Mess Inside” on The Mountain Goats’ All Hail West Texas. The move seems calculated to show just how high the highs were and how low the lows were. That’s a rare thing from a breakup album.
Even within songs, the focus is shifted off a single narrator. While “we” is invoked in places (“Crazy”), the most intriguing turn lyrically is that both the man and the woman in the relationship get their own songs. This is facilitated by Jesse James DeConto and Katie DeConto sharing lead vocal work throughout the album; sometimes doing a duet (“Deeper than Skin”), but often exclusively in their own tunes (“Don’t,” “Tolerance Ends,” “Ghost in My Bed”). This fills out the album in a unique way, giving it that pop which pushes it beyond a standard breakup album. It’s the idea of the Postal Service’s “Nothing Better” extended over a whole record, which is cool.
The lyrics on their own are almost enough to recommend this record to you, but happily there’s even more to commend. The indie rock that The Pinkerton Raid plays draws on a deep well of minor-key indie rock forebears to form the basis of their work. The band layers dense, marching-band quality horns and the aforementioned excellent vocals of the DeConto siblings on top of these immediately recognizable forms to create whirling, intense tracks. Jesse DeConto is prone to roaring vocal lines (“Righteous Rain,” “Ghost in My Bed”) while Katie DeConto is more incisive and subtle in her delivery; their talents are paired with tunes that play up their strengths.
While “Deeper than Skin” and “Tolerance Ends” are both impressive tunes, it’s “Crazy” where this album really comes together. The DeContos’ vocal performances are intricately intertwined, and the volatile arrangement provides a complex framework that allows both of their vocal strengths to shine. Katie also gets a chance to roar in the chorus, too, which is a bold move. Lyrically the tune draws the listener into the narrators’ complex relationship, focusing on multiple meanings of the word crazy and the fact that we’re all a little crazy at times. The whole thing comes off as a thunderous turn, not dissimilar to Fleetwood Mac’s high-drama work.
The Pinkerton Raid’s Tolerance Ends, Love Begins is not your everyday breakup album. By approaching the lyrics and arrangements from unusual angles, they create a fascinating, unique record.
Serious singer/songwriters have a tough row to hoe, as we’re largely past the point where a great lyric can propel you through bland instrumentation or vice versa. You’ve got to be on your game in both categories to make a dent, because there’s a lot of competition. MAITA is up for the challenge, as Waterbearerstands out in both categories. Her debut EP is a surprisingly complex, unusually assured five-song collection that draws similarities to Kathleen Edwards.
Maita’s assured alto makes the listener feel right at home from the first moment. The ease with which she handles lilting high notes and deft syllabic turns (e.g. the verses of “Geography”) are usually the province of artists with many more releases under their belts. It’s not just the vocals that show unusual maturity: the stark yet engaging arrangements are built around warm, clear acoustic guitar and subtle percussion. The bright, unadorned recording style highlights the vocals, guitar and percussion beautifully. It’s an impressive collection of songs from that angle.
The lyrics are another interesting angle. MAITA’s lyrical sense hews toward the Lady Lamb school of lyrics: there’s a clarity of thought that isn’t obscured by the complexity of language she uses. MAITA’s lyrics focus on relational complexity (“Kinder than Most,” “Too Tired to Love You”) but don’t fall neatly into the “love song” / “break up song” dichotomy that singer/songwriters can sometimes get trapped in when they write about relationships. Between the interesting topics and the precise wording, the lyrics are unusually attractive.
MAITA’s debut is an unusually sophisticated take on singer/songwriter work. The songs are interesting from multiple angles, making for multiple engaging listens. Highly recommended.
Mike Llerena‘s five-song EP Absence & the Heart is a blast of punk-folk adrenaline that fans of The Menzingers will latch onto immediately. I put “punk” in front of “folk” instead of the more common reverse (folk-punk) because Llerena can play folk, but it takes less than thirty seconds into the first song for Llerena to roar “my life’s a wreck” in a throat-shredding yell over punk-rock guitar distortion and tone. “End of the Line” kicks off with a wiry punk-rock guitar melody before dropping into the standard punk-rock guitar chug that has served so well for so many years. “Lady Rock & Roll” is a bit more old-school rock at the beginning, but again, Llerena lurches into full-on punk rock blitz before thirty seconds are up.
These punk rock blasts (complete with the occasional “whoa-oh”) are anchored by Llerena’s insistent tenor, which is in the same vein as The Menzingers’ vocal tone. The melodies share similarities as well. But Llerena is no knock-off; where The Menzingers can ratchet up to snarling tunes, Llerena ratchets down to ballads. Lead single “Rosanna” has an old-school country/rock’n’roll fusion vibe, while “Dear Lonely” is an acoustic ballad that draws equally on the melodic aesthetics of “acoustic songs by punk rockers” and lonesome country tunes.
If you’re looking for some punk rock to get your summer going, Mike Llerena can help you out. But he can also get you a sad song or two, if that’s what you need. Overall, this is a strong demonstration of varied songwriting from Llerena.
I’ve been a big fan of Magic Giant over the past few years as they’ve been releasing singles and online EPs. They’ve finally released a full-length collecting that work and adding in new tunes. In the Windis a fun, bouncy, catchy album of pop-rock, showing how Magic Giant has expanded from a folk-pop outfit heavily reliant on banjo to being a diverse group that can wear many hats.
Magic Giant was always had a bit of dance-rock in them, as the giddy dance-ability of the folk-dance-pop tune “Glass Heart” was what drew me to them. “Glass Heart” is reproduced in a shorter version (no drum circle outro, sadly), but it’s still a blast. Other tunes like “Hideaway” and “Celebrate the Reckless” show off their enthusiastic folk-dance-pop skills that put them in league with Judah and the Lion. But other tunes show off their straight-ahead pop skills, like the thrilling trumpet playing and “na-nas” of “Eyes Wide” and the new-school-Coldplay-esque opener “Jade.” These songs have more in common with Bastille than Mumford and Sons. To round out their abilities, “Nothin’ Left” is a breakup tune that’s straight down the folk-pop pike: it’s all fingerpicked guitar, plucked banjo, three-part harmonies, group vocals, tom percussion, and harmonica (!).
In the Wind is a fun album that would be great on the stereo on a summer road trip. It shows off a wide array of the trio’s skills and sets up a wide-open trajectory for them in the future. At the moment, though, it’s certainly a big collection of summer jams.
Cesaréa is a ten song journey, a blend of western influences and the tales of a true road dog told with a mature lyricism. From the scent of pine trees and small town life in the opening track “The Town Where I’m From” to the simple “In My Thoughts,” listeners are invited into authentic and vulnerable world of Charles Ellsworth via his third full-length release as a solo artist.
There are no mistakes in who crosses someone’s path in life. “Right around the time I turned 22, I was in Las Vegas with a group of some of my oldest friends. On one particularly hungover/still drunk afternoon, I was talking with a friend about how neither of us knew exactly what we wanted to do with our lives. He was about to head to the Peace Corps for a couple years, and I had just gone through a bad band breakup and had decided to go back to Utah to finish my Bachelor’s degree,” said Charles Ellsworth, when asked about the origins of his latest album set to drop May 26th, 2017. It was prior to his emotional musical breakup that this listener first crossed paths with Ellsworth and heard his story. Swearing off music to focus on film, this wandering man was was truly born, more open to the possibilities of life.
Ellsworth grew up in logging country of Arizona’s White Mountains where families are generationally embedded into the land. This simple life instilled in Ellsworth the value of hard work and sacrifice. These values show in songs like “California,” an uptempo Americana folk trip about moving on. Long a favorite at live shows, this mix has created a beast with soaring guitar work from Jon Rauhouse. The beautifully arranged waltz of “Hold On to Me” shows the trust that Ellsworth has in producer Bob Hoag at Flying Blanket Recording (Courtney Marie Andrews, The Format, Gin Blossoms) in Mesa, Arizona. Another song first heard live, this song has been brilliantly transformed into a lush ballad with an elegant tempo and instrumentation: a barn dance for two with the rest of the world listening.
Every path in life comes full circle, allowing the traveler opportunities to get lost along the way. Originally meeting and working with the producer Bob Hoag, the intentional life was born without any realization of the destination at that point. Ellsworth’s friend that joined the Peace Corps gave him a parting gift. “At some point I told him I just wanted to write, play music, and travel the world. I didn’t care about money, I cared about a life spent creating from outside my comfort zone. He suggested that I read The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolaño. I read it in the final week of the summer before starting school again. It immediately became one of my favorite books, and without realizing it at the time, influenced most of my decisions that have led me to now.”
Being on the road of life is the only way to find new experiences outside one’s comfort zone, in true Tom Waits fashion. “50 Cent Smile” is the first single off Cesaréa. The song is a connection to the man that was and the man that moved to Brooklyn, New York, after years of touring with a guitar. Ellsworth toured with and without his friend Tres Wilson (AKA Shadow Puppet), wandering from Salt Lake City north, west, east, and south to all parts in between. “50 Cent Smile” is a song mirroring the western freewheeling mentality that was inspired by John Steinbeck’s classic East of Eden. Lyrically the song taps into the questions that are posed in the classic American novel, exceptionally relevant in the world today.
“I re-read The Savage Detectives while in the studio last year and was blown away by the fact that I was still doing what I wanted to all those years ago. I decided to name the album Cesaréa after one of the characters in the book. While the album isn’t necessarily about the book, the album wouldn’t exist without it,” says Charles Ellsworth when asked recently about his upcoming album.
“Growing Up Ain’t Easy” and “Dyre Straitz” have a totally different feel for the singer. Giving voice to a more mature musician coming from a place outside of his comfort zone, it’s like the first time you ride the A Train from north Manhattan to south Brooklyn: the thirty-one mile stretch is a lifetime of change. Solid instrumentally, the resonance in Ellsworth’s vocal delivery has matured as well.
Some tracks on Cesaréa have been years in the making, having appeared in other incarnations on previous releases. “Always Looking Twice” is one of those uptempo moments of greatness that happens on this album. A new instrumentation that includes piano, movement and familiar images flickers like a crooked smile at long time fans. With its sprinkling of the road, this song sets up at the entrance to the American songbook.
Heading full circle and out of the album, “Sunday Shoes” is the connective tissue for the lyrics. The arrangement and vocal delivery gives a western strength to a song that has been evolving for years on the road, with roots in the logging country of the Arizona White Mountains where Ellsworth is from. Sprinkled with piano, the city is part of the landscape and the mountains part of the foundation in the music of Charles Ellsworth. There is a strength and confidence in his lyrical craftsmanship, an undeniable thing that cannot really be taught. Like Jason Isbell‘s highly anticipated The Nashville Sound and The American West’s The Soot Will Bring Us Back Again, this album comes out of experience that shape artistic sensibilities.
Now on the third section of his quest, like The Savage Detectives, musician and songwriter Charles Ellsworth is narrator of this story. He combines solo, acoustic, live, and collaborative releases that have culminated in the masterwork of Cesaréa. Ellsworth is destined to join the collection of folk country troubadours that are part of the American songbook.–Lisa Whealy
Love can be a fickle mistress, filled with hope and expectation, fear and anticipation. Grover Anderson has found a way to tap into the journey almost everyone experiences in his new album From the Pink Room. This new acoustic album, released March 3, 2017, is a simple, sweet expression of how a skilled songwriter shares his perceptions acoustically with incredible ease.
As the story goes, the musician holed up in the back room of his house that is covered with pink striped walls. The concept of this album was born out of a meeting with a woman. She had been in a relationship for seven years; the house’s previous owner had painted the room with the vibrant color. It is also known as the healing color for the heart chakra, making this album all the more special.
Anderson opens the album with “Evergreen” as an intentional hope for the future. The growth of something special is like the organic path of life. With exceptional talent, Anderson’s fingerpicking guitar fits the content. When telling a story like this, it could be easy to get lost, but Anderson paints a masterpiece landscape with the songs. Harry Nilsson comes to mind in “Parallel,” challenging listeners to come along for the ride, soulful and real. The lyrical landscape here is full of imagery, and the sensory exploration of “Natural Bridges” is no exception. Raw and unapologetic, it is a challenge to get real. It is also a tribute to the landmark that graces Calaveras County, where Anderson grew up–undoubtedly a hangout for the locals.
The great thing about music that fits into the Great American Songbook is that there is depth and substance in telling the American experience. This album is no exception, painting a picture through the color spectrum. “Holes” hits the dark places between relationships, often painful and uncertain. Part of the experience with this auditory picture book is the cover art design and artwork by Alexis Wagner; the color spectrum is the left to right vision that parallels the album. “Little Spoon” is the uptempo romp that square dances its way through the middle of the album–a heartbeat of hope and joy.
It is not strange how art is shaped by real life. “Willie Nelson” and “For Goose” both touch on grief and the power it has over a life left to live. Haunting and hopeful, the two songs contrast each other like complimentary colors in a garden of flowers. What lessons are learned is the message, but the memory is the real foundation. “Boulder” is one of the absolute standouts on an exceptional indie acoustic guitar release. In covering The Smiths’ classic “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out,” Anderson shows off a stellar mix of simplicity and power. Haunting and painful, the song resonates with every and any broken heart. Emotions bleed through the vocal delivery from Anderson.
A full fourteen songs includes “Old Songs” as a mash-up of other music, creative and fresh. Taking it back into the breakup of love, “Ember” is a rip-to-shreds appraisal of a she-devil mankiller. A lyrical masterclass, it is a joy to feel the burn. “The Best You Can” has also found its way onto From The Pink Room, taking everything full circle. Its acoustic elegance is wrapped in a neat package. A fourteen-song journey through the spectrum of emotions as well as color, this album is Americana Country at its finest.–Lisa Whealy
Prana Crafter’s psychedelic bliss always leaves me wanting more. After reviewing last year’s album, Rupture of Planes, I could not wait to get my hands on what William Sol had brewing next. And MindStreamBlessing was worth the anticipation. Just as the album’s title suggests, the tracks take me on a matchless journey, with no vocals and quite the range of instruments. Each instrument used brings its own flavor to the collection of six songs.
Released last month, MindStreamBlessing is an entrance to a world I wish I knew more intimately. The tracks feel playful yet seductive, as they show us a peek into the Washington woodlands. The first song, “At Agartha’s Gate,” is the most inviting, as the acoustic and electric guitar sweetly set the mood. As the album progresses, I notice that since this collection contains no vocals, the instruments are left to tell the stories, akin to orchestral works. Each time a particular instrument–like the electric guitar, drums, or synth–appears, they are like actors on a stage. For example, the intricate electric guitar work that is sprinkled in this first song fully grows into its soulful skin by the last track.
Similarly, the acoustic guitar that starts off the album returns in the title song “MindStreamBlessing” to show off more of its sassy personality. With each track, the first guitar or bass lays the rhythmic foundation so that a second, often electric, guitar can enter in and take the lead. That second guitar usually comes in and sings a soulful, jazzy tune. Similar to Jimi Hendrix, you never know when the lead electric guitar plans on ending its rant.
Percussion is also a great addition to this album. In “As the Weather Commands,” the beating of the drums tells a story of movement. Picture someone playing wooden drums for a show, perhaps snakes coming out of baskets. Then, my favorite track off the album: “Luminous Clouds” opens up with what sounds like a recording of the night woodland wind and slowly builds until about halfway in, where a tambourine, guitar, and drum circle combination immediately thrust my thoughts to the middle of the woods, dancing around a bonfire. And since that’s one of my favorite places to be, I certainly don’t mind that.
At large, there’s a cyclical nature to MindStreamBlessing. Each track feels orchestrated by jazz musicians. Even when the lead electric guitar does go off on soulful displays of its power, it always seems to cycle back to an established rhythm, giving the album an effect of falling slowly down a concentric helical spring. Finally, the organ-like synth sounds which make a continual appearance throughout the collection add just the right amount of eeriness to complete the album’s wall of sound.
Prana Crafter’s MindStreamBlessing proves itself as another magical journey, clearly constructed by an adventurous soul.–Krisann Janowitz
Stephen Carradini and friends write reviews of bands that are trying to make the next step in their careers.