Sound Salvation Army

Re-discovering an old favourite is usually a wonderful experience. Cueing up a record you haven’t listened to in years, remembering how moving it was, re-living that experience…there’s nothing better. Usually.

When the National’s Boxer first hit me I was hurtling through the rocky mountains in what can quite literally only be described as the dead of night. Evocative, suppressing blackness marked both the night sky and the sound of the album, the risk of danger and death literally lying around every corner enhancing the experience of hearing the songs. In the two years since I’ve listened to the record only sparingly, but recently it has wormed its way back into a regular rotation on my various music players. But I’m finding the dark and ominous tone is acting like a mirror, parabolically reflecting a whole new set of emotions this time around.

The sense of isolation, loneliness, depression, anxiety, they were always there. But hearing it now the detachment and ennui in Matt Berninger’s voice rings so much truer. The entire album feels so much more visceral when your own wounds are wide open.

After four years my common-law wife decided a few weeks ago to end our relationship. The details are not for your consumption. While I understand and respect her decision and the numerous factors that went into it it still sucks ass. I’ve spent the better part of September drinking (way) too much and distracting myself by working extra shifts and going out with friends and family, trying to reconcile my new-found freedom with the simultaneous severing of the adoration I’ve felt for so long. On Saturday I slept for more than six hours, the first time this month I’ve managed to do that. Yesterday I cleaned my apartment until my hands bled.

People always like to say that time heals all wounds. While that’s cold comfort in the immediate aftermath, I can still appreciate how time also distorts things. Boxer is evidence of that. While I love it just as much as I ever did the album reads completely different to me now. Its a little bittersweet to feel love and joy at a time like this.

One more thing to feel good about: listening to so much new music means you always have plenty of miserable music to listen to when you’re mired in the dumps. Below is a quick mix, sampling some of the songs that carried me through one particularly dark evening that consisted of seven hours, dozens of the saddest songs I could think of, and a shitload of vodka and rum. I would say, “Enjoy,” but that really isn’t the point, is it?

 

 the National - Ada [4:05m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Sarah Harmer - You Were Here: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Frightened Rabbit - Keep Yourself Warm [5:33m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Mountain Goats - No Children: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Drag the River - Hang Dog [2:30m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 the Bicycles - Can I Keep Calling You Baby [2:17m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Mike Hale - Lives Like Mine [3:37m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 the Lowest of the Low - Black Monday [5:10m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 the Wheat Pool - Right Arm: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 the Mountain Goats - Woke Up New: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Pat entries break-downs, break-ups, emo, it's personal, mixes, relationships

Avast, poor Lucksmiths; we hardly knew ye. My favourite Australian band of ever is breaking up. Read more about the end of a wonderful era right here and learn more about the finest band that nobody ever cared about over here.

It’s a sad day.

 

 the Lucksmiths - Successlessness [2:43m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Pat entries Australia, break-ups, guitar pop, pop, the Lucksmiths

I love it when an album that’s completely unfamiliar to you feels like coming home.

A number of years ago I spent two years in the second-largest city in Manitoba, Canada (which is just as small as it sounds). At the time, seven or eight friends rented an old church that had been converted into a coffee shop to live in. The coffee shop had failed, and with that much space just going to waste it seemed like a logical use to have tenants in the basement. Meanwhile the rectory (or whatever you call that big open space where the pews are) sat essentially empty, the pews long since removed. This gang of miscreants decided that they’d throw lavish parties to help cover their rent and bill payments, occasionally booking small touring prairie bands to play a set on the stage while they sold booze illegally to area residents that heard about these dubious events. Once they moved out, the Hell’s Angels would eventually move in and hold similar functions. Apparently college kids are smarter/more discreet than bikers, because they’d eventually get busted by the RCMP. True story.

Anyway, one of the biggest parties was a Halloween party that Winnipeg band Sixty Stories played at. I don’t remember much from that event, aside from the band sitting off in a corner drinking mostly by themselves (I don’t blame them). At the time of the church show the group was somewhere in between having released their only full-length album, Anthem Red, and breaking up, which was a considerable shame given how incredibly good that album is. The power-pop threesome crafted an incredibly engaging, loosely-themed album focusing on the trials and tribulations of growing up as a teenage girl. While the subject matter has the potential to come off maudlin, depressing, or trivial frontwoman Jo Snyder has a knack for painting a realistic picture of how significant the experiences of that era of life are to those living it as opposed to how their reactions are viewed by others.

After disbanding in 2004, Snyder and her bassist/co-writer Sarah Sangster reformed under the moniker Anthem Red, adding the extremely adroit drummer and guitarist that currently grace their new lineup. They managed to write, record, and release the album Dancing On The Dishwasher in 2006 and absolutely nobody noticed. That’s probably because it’s put out by the Company With The Golden Arm, a German label that co-released their Sixty Stories records.

Frankly, it’s pretty fucking sad that nobody is listening to this CD. The new players have opened up Snyder’s songwriting, providing a lusher and more deft backdrop for her observational, slice-of-life tunes. Blurring the lines between Jawbreaker, Elvis Costello, and Vivian Girls/Discount/Fifth Hour Hero/your favourite girl-punk band, there are no bad songs on this album. Snyder’s singing voice is just as unique as her writing voice; where her vocals were once described by reviewers as “androgynous” (and that’s one of the friendlier descriptions) she’s managed to reach a slightly higher register without losing that unique tone. Her focus is more on adult minutia than adolescent this time around: anxiety over flying, reconciling the fact that your parents are getting older with your own aging process, smoking on a fire escape.

Better still, the writing contributions from Sarah Sangster (”Power Lines,” “Broken English,” “Wonder”) rival anything the band has produced in either its present or past incarnations. “Broken English” has caused me to once again go all rubbery over a song; like “Second Hand Tables & Chairs” from Sixty Stories’ Anthem Red it’s a perfectly structured song that exudes genuine emotion and boasts a jaw-dropping performance. Perhaps most impressive is the sublimely-layered three-part harmonies, a trick that never really presented itself in the old band. Equally as jarring (in a good way) is “Diet Cokes & Stethoscopes,” an introspective number about seeing your future in your aging parents eyes.

This album is a more than welcome reminder of days gone by. A release cheaply recorded in another group’s practice space and released on another continent has retroactively become one of my favourite from 2006. In just a week I know this album back to front; several of the songs on it are honestly some of the best I’ve heard in years. Snyder is now a bit closer to actually penning the sixty stories she may or may not have intended to write when she started her last band; here’s hoping she makes it there and beyond before she adds “former” to another band to her resumé.

 

 Anthem Red - Broken English [5:06m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Anthem Red - Diet Cokes & Stethoscopes [3:59m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Sixty Stories - Second Hand Tables & Chairs [2:48m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Dancing On The Dishwasher can be found by internet detectives on iTunes and through the band’s myspace page. The excellent Sixty Stories material is also available from iTunes and Smallman Records webstore.

Pat entries Anthem Red, break-ups, Canadian content, Dancing On The Dishwasher, pop punk, pop rock, power pop, Sixty Stories