Before the release of the year, here are some honourable mentions (that are not necessarily less good than the ones I wrote about, but which I didn’t get round to writing about. There will also be omissions that I will probably mention later, when I remember them)
The honourable mentions…
Prophets of Rage – The Party’s Over
Jenny Hval – Blood Bitch
Iggy Pop – Post Pop Depression
De La Soul – …and the Anonymous Nobody…
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – The Skeleton Tree
Shield Patterns – Mirror Breathing
Trees of Eternity – Hour of the Nightingale
A Tribe Called Quest – We Got It From Here…Thank You 4 Your Service…
Kate Carr – I Had Myself a Nuclear Spring
Abbath – Abbath
Jeff Parker – The New Breed
Cate le Bon – Crab Day
Eno – The Ship
and finally – my choice for…
Release of the Year, 2016!
Kristin Hersh – Wyatt At The Coyote Palace (Omnibus Books)
I have written extensively about this album/book both here and for Echoes and Dust so will try not to repeat myself. 2016 was (externally, and I hope personally) a good year for Kristin Hersh. In addition to this long-awaited solo album, she released the excellent Bath WhiteEP with her band 50FOOTWAVE and recently completed a successful solo tour, which I was lucky enough to catch one of the dates of (I wrote about it here). Wyatt… ended up being my album of the year because after months of listening I haven’t got anywhere near wearing it out. It’s a warm, intimate encounter with a fellow human being, a beautiful, mysterious, heartbreaking piece of work that ultimately feels strangely familiar. No other album this year has found a place in my heart in the same way this. It’s great.
Probably the least conventional release of the year on my list, I wrote about Lauren Redhead’s ambient/noise/found sound opera for Echoes and Dust, so will keep this short. An intriguing mix of music and non-music, it’s a minimalist but strangely satisfying work that repays close listening.
Suzanne Vega – Lover, Beloved: Songs from an Evening with Carson McCullers (Amanuensis Productions)
Taken from her stage show, this easily stands as an album; both soothing and thought-provoking, it’s a collection of clever, affecting and slightly jazzy songs arguably as good as any she has released.
Quite rightly appearing in many album of the year lists, Emma Ruth Rundle’s second album is a collection of dark and atmospheric ballads that is more affecting and more accessible than Some Heavy Ocean, but loses none of that record’s deep emotional impact.
Some metallic Releases of the Year
I’ve already mentioned some of the metal highlights of the year (Alcest, ThrOes, SubRosa) but it was a pretty good year for metal overall, so here are a few more great things:
Unusual black metal, shrouded in mystery and atmosphere. A really good album that doesn’t sound much like anything else; quite an accomplishment given the genre.
Far more conventional than Das Seelenbrechen (with the Hardingrock album Grimen, still my favourite Ihsahn release) but much more fun too – an inventive, exciting album that is both modern and classic.
After years of experimental, conceptual work, Bethlehem returned with perhaps their best and certainly their most straightforward album to date, aided hugely by new vocalist Onielar. A dark metal masterpiece.
An excellent comeback from Norway’s Madder Mortem; catchy, unorthodox songs and great performances, especially from singer Agnete M. Kirkvaage.
Also…
Drudkh/Hades Almighty – The One Who Talks With The Fog/Pyre Era, Black! (Season of Mist) – The best of Drudkh’s recent split releases, not least because Hades Almighty are on equally formidable form.
Forteresse – Thèmes Pour la Rébellion (Sepulchral Productions) – I’ve written about my love of Métal Noir Québécois at length here qnd, even though I prefer Forteresse’s earlier, more atmospheric work, this album is a vital, furious addition to their work
Opeth – Sorceress (Nuclear Blast) – Perhaps the best non-death metal album Opeth have released
Inquisition – Bloodshed Across the Empyrean Altar Beyond the Celestial Zenith (Season of Mist) – Inquisition are perhaps beginning to tread water with their seventh album, but they are working at such a high standard that this is still essential for black metal fans
Sad Farewells of the Year
Celebrity deaths have been especially noticeable this year, but both David Bowie and Leonard Cohen managed to say goodbye with albums that are excellent even by their very high standards. These albums acknowledge their finality in a way that rarely happens in popular music (or any art, really). So moving (if you’re a fan) that they are hard to evaluate.
David Bowie – Blackstar (ISO/RCA)
A difficult listen, it’s a measure of Blackstar‘s quality that it is still revealing its secrets months after its release and it remains difficult to evaluate just where it belongs qualitatively in Bowie’s vast and rich catalogue. Philosophical and in some ways opaque, it shows an artist at the end of his life looking inwards and outwards but rarely backwards; a brave, forbidding but ultimately enriching album that sounds like nothing else on earth (or anywhere else).
Leonard Cohen – You Want It Darker (Columbia)
In many ways not that unusual for a Leonard Cohen album, You Want It Darker is witty, wise and deeply sad. Not as painful to listen to as Blackstar, but just as emotionally involving.
Final part to follow, including my release of the year!
Here are some more of the things I thought were good this year
Vaguely (or very) shoegaze-related releases of the year
I didn’t like the term ‘shoegaze’ back in the early 90s and I don’t like it now. I dislike ‘dreampop’ even more. Neo-shoegaze has now got to the point that original shoegaze got to; 99% of it is boring. But I do like some of it and these were good:
Naples shoegaze trio Stella Diana seem to be influenced mainly by the less experimental end of the original shoegaze scene (Just For A Day-era Slowdive with a pinch of Ride), rather than My Bloody Valentine or Curve, but on this, their third album, it all comes together with some quality songwriting and excellent performances.
I didn’t like this as much as I thought I would in fact; but it’s definitely a good album. As with so many ‘supergroup’ records, a bit underwhelming and boring overall, but the good bits, like ‘For You Always’, (where, as usual, Mark Kozelek makes one wish he seemed to be as likeable as he is talented) are so good that it’s definitely worth checking out.
For me, Souvenirs d’un Autre Monde is still the perfect Alcest album, the one where the shoegaze and black metal elements blended most seamlessly and where Neige’s vision seemed most clear and fresh. But Kodama is the best he’s made since then, the reintroduction of the metal elements slicing away some of the flabbiness of Shelter. The striking artwork and design of the album also rekindled the spark which had become somewhat mellow over time.
More singer-songwriter oriented than the other releases here, Daniel Land’s In Love With A Ghost meshes a strongly atmospheric dreampop feel with a very human, rather than celestial approach. His songs; sad, happy, richly lyrical, have everything to do with real life, making this the most approachable and loveable shoegaze(ish) album I’ve heard this year.
Even without the conceptual baggage of their previous albums, The Vision Bleak’s latest opus is an overpoweringly rich and theatrical work of gothic melancholy. Konstanz and Schwadorf’s art will never be for everyone, but The Unknown is as accessible and as eccentric as anything the duo have recorded.
In terms of time spent listening, Bacteria Cult may actually be my release of the year; the pairing of Mike Patton and Norwegian composer John Erika Kaada makes most of Patton’s other collaborations feel like novelty acts. Sweeping, epic, beautiful, funny and atmospheric, the music on this album is great as background or foreground and I am yet to be bored by it.
Jozef van Wissem – When Shall This Bright Day Begin (Consouling Sounds)
I wrote a detailed review of this great album for Echoes and Dust so will keep this short. This is a beautiful and haunting album of wistful (non-traditional) lute music with some experimental elements. It doesn’t sound like anything else in my Releases of the Year.
An unclassifiable album of darkly romantic, sort of gothic (but without being theatrical) mood music. So immersively atmospheric that it takes a while to realise just how tightly written and well constructed Jayn H Wissenberg’s songs are.
I wrote extensively about this album here but since it was very nearly my album of the year, here’s a bit more: Rachel Mason has produced so much, in so many fields – performance art/sculpture/filmmaking/music, etc (check out her website for a cross-section) – that it’s easy to immerse oneself in her work. In music alone she is amazingly prolific and has amassed a vast and crazily varied discography (fourteen albums, plus various collaborations) within just a few years. Das Ram is a bold, exciting and accessible album, utterly different from the acoustic/folk rock textures of Mason’s earlier works like Turtles or Hamilton Fish… and even further removed from the raw, homemade quality of Gayley ManorSongs.Only a handful of artists have convincingly made a gesamstkunstwerk in the idiom of popular music without falling into the trap of overblown pretension – and most of those have spread from within the music world outwards. With Das Ram, Rachel Mason has become one of an even more select group – an artist who has learned to express herself with equal authority in whatever medium she chooses – and who seems to have fun doing it.
John Gallo’s Goblin-worshipping occult synth doom rock(?) is at its best on 2013’s Strange Doorways compilation, but when this album is great, it’s really great.
Last year, I ended up writing multiple ‘releases of the year’ lists because I kept forgetting great things and having to add more posts to include them. I feel like keeping it (relatively) concise this year but will probably end up doing the same again.
Anyway, I thought I’d group things differently this time, so here are a few (non-exhaustive) groups of things that all fall into my ‘releases of the year’. They aren’t in any order of preference aside from the ‘release of the year’ itself, which will come last of all. I use the term ‘releases’ because, although it sounds far less good than ‘albums of the year’, I am including all sorts of releases. There aren’t really any rules (aside from year of release, obviously) because why would I make any? And so…
Hellos of the Year (new artists/debut releases)
All years are probably good for new artists and 2016 was no exception
Kib Elektra – Blemishes (Bezirk Tapes)
I’ve written about Abi Bailey‘s Kib Elektra at length here as well as reviewing the EP for Echoes and Dust so will keep this brief. Kib Elektra’s debut is a brilliantly orchestrated collection of contrasting textures and sounds, organic, electronic,earthly and celestial; and the songs are great.
ThrOes – This Viper Womb (Aesthetic Death)
An impressive debut in every way, This Viper Womb is remarkable for the balance between precise detail and overall effect; it’s an emotionally involving, musically intense journey – brutal but subtle, extreme metal that doesn’t fit easily into any pigeonhole.
Naia Izumi – various releases
Guitarist/singer/composer/etc Naia Izumi has released a series of fantastic and wide ranging EPs throughout 2016. Her style is not easy to define, but it incorporates elements of math rock, R’n’B, blues, ambient music… Lots of things, but all done with feeling and amazing instrumental skill – listen here
Zeal & Ardor – Devil Is Fine
Sometimes classified as black metal but really a kind of blackened blues, Zeal & Ardor’s music has deep, but varied roots and a spooky atmosphere all of its own. Listen here
Debz – Extended Play (Choice Records)
Again, I’ve written about this elsewhere, but this EP is a refreshing and messy mix of grungy pop, punk and peculiarity.
Candelabrum – Necrotelepathy(Altare Productions)
Unhinged but hugely ambitious Portuguese black metal, Necrotelepathy is a true symphony (while not being remotely ‘symphonic’) of rusty, shrill, clanging and nasty black metal that lasts for a long time (two songs, 33 minutes) but has a strangely cleansing effect on the ears.
Dia – Tiny Ocean (Manimal Records)
A lovely EP of shoegaze-infused baroque pop, or something like that. I wrote about it here and you can check out Dia here. Hopefully lots more to come.
New-old Releases of the Year
Many, many great reissues this year, these were ones worthy of attention:
I’ve written about this at length elsewhere, but in short – one of the great (and not as respected as it should be) heavy rock albums of the 1970s, remastered, repackaged and with another disc with a whole new, previously unreleased version of the album, great sleevenotes etc etc etc. The reissue of the almost-as-epic Salisbury is just as great. If the (presumably forthcoming) Look At Yourself and Demons and Wizards maintain the quality, 2017 already has something going for it.
Thus Defiled – An Unhallowed Legacy (Shadowflame Productions)
Not quite as lavish than the Uriah Heep reissues (Shadowflame’s budget presumably somewhat less than BMG’s), but just as iconic; two classic turn-of-the-millennium releases from UK black metal overlords Thus Defiled, packaged nicely, sounding fantastic: classic stuff.
David Bowie – Who Can I Be Now? (1974-1976) (Parlophone)
I can only dream of having the vinyl version, but whatever the packaging, this is Bowie’s best (i.e. my favourite) period, treated with respect and sounding perfect. I just wish the missing Gouster songs were there.
Established artists, latest Releases of the Year
In no order…
Iggy Pop/Tarwater/Alva Noto – Leaves of Grass (Morr Music)
A criminally overlooked record, perhaps because of Iggy’s great but more conventional Post-Pop Depression, Leaves of Grass is an EP of readings from Whitman’s book of the same name, with atmospheric electronic backing. Iggy proves himself an unexpectedly, but on reflection not surprisingly brilliant interpreter of Whitman’s poetry. I wrote more and better about it here
Wardruna – Runaljod – Ragnarok (By Norse)
Not so much a recreation of the lost music of the viking age as an imagining of it through immersion in the culture, literature and instruments of the era, as well as in the natural landscapes of Scandinavia, Kvitrafn’s latest album is harder to define than it is to feel. The atmosphere is primal and traditional, while not really following any musical traditions; sonically Runaljod – Ragnarok is as much an archaic, organic version of an Eno or Vangelis record as it is ‘folk music’, but somehow the authenticity of Wardruna’s vision and passion makes it feel like a window into a living past.
Once made a big impact on me partly because of the deeply worrying socio-political context in which it was released (my review of this album for Echoes and Dust goes on about it), but months later, its graceful, logical beauty is still deeply soothing.
SubRosa – For This We Fought The Battle of Ages (Profound Lore)
Inspired by Yevgeny Zamyatin’s classic 1921 dystopian novel We, SubRosa’s themes of freedom and control couldn’t be more prescient, and the album is suitably challenging, aggressive and epic. By far their greatest album to date.
end of part one…
next: more releases of the year, including the Goodbyes of the Year
‘Album of the year’ lists are fine for representing a specific time period in music, and interesting because of how personal and subjective they are – an element which becomes eroded by time, as is easily seen from the consensus found in the majority of ‘great albums of the 60s/70s/80s’/etc lists and the fact that ‘new’ classics from those eras can be discovered decades later.
Claire Waldoff
Anyway; all of this is to ask what importance a ‘releases of the year 2016’ list can really have for someone (i.e. me) who was listening to Claire Waldoff on his way home from work. One way to find out is to look back over the last few years to see how many of my own previous releases of the year have stood the test of (a relatively short amount of) time to become actual favourites. So let’s do that.
My records (pun shockingly not intended) of such things only go back a few years and I am sticking to things that actually made it onto my lists and not the many things I have subsequently discovered from those years (2012-2015 I think), but blah blah blah; disclaimers aside, here’s what the stalwarts of the last few years (and 60 or so albums) look like, plus notes related thereto:
STILL CURRENT LISTENING
Ihsahn – Das Seelenbrechen (Candlelight Records)
What I said then:
Metal acts are all too often praised for bringing any kind of non-metal musical influence into their work (tentative, seriously out of date bits of techno or hip-hop are probably the least daring way to ‘innovate’); but with Das Seelenbrechen, Ihsahn made an album that wasn’t just ‘extreme metal with (whatever) elements’. The electronic, gentle and improvised parts of the album are no less natural than the heavy riffs, raw vocals and Nietzschean philosophy. Clever, extreme (in lots of different ways) but accessible, because at its heart are great songs which don’t necessarily belong to any particular genre.
What I say now: I think Das Seelenbrechen has gone on to become Ihsahn’s least popular solo album, but I stand by what I said and, for me this, together with the 2007 Hardingrock album, is the artist at his creative peak (so far). This year’s Arktis. is a great record, and arguably much more fun than Das Seelenbrechen, but also far more conventional. Not a bad thing, but Das Seelenbrechen sounded at times like Scott Walker and a group of jazz musicians playing metal/metal musicians playing jazz, Arktis. sounds like someone who loves 80s metal and rock interpreting it in their own style.
Collectress – Mondegreen (Peeler Records)
What I said then:
Experimental string quartet Collectress make music that has many moods but is always interesting. On Mondegreen, the sound ranges from the bustling, Steve Reich-ish ‘Spell‘ to the haunting, tense ‘Harmonium‘ to the wistful, minimalistic and strangely nostalgic-sounding ‘Owl‘. It’s a beautiful album, each song creating its own pervasive mood but somehow becoming an entirely coherent whole; and it sounds absolutely nothing like anything else I heard this year.
What I say now: I still feel the same about the album, but what strikes me most now is the way each piece of music conjures up its own visual world; it has a strange, benign doll’s house feel to it, theatrical and haunted without being spooky.
David Bowie – The Next Day (ISO/Columbia)
What I said then:
A great album (if not a ‘return to form’ exactly, since his form has been pretty dubious for a long, long time), with a few lesser moments (the 90’s-ish indie-ish attempts at being modern grate a bit) which don’t however spoil the whole.
What I say now – This is an odd one, in that the album disappeared from regular rotation for a good year or so, only to be rediscovered with so many other Bowie albums, after his death. Still, I don’t think it’s one of his best overall (certainly less good than Blackstar), but the best songs are ‘classic Bowie’
Sangre de Muerdago – Deixademe Morrer No Bosque (self-release)
What I said then:
Moody, windswept and mysterious Galician folk music; beautiful, desolate and organic.
What I say now – One of the ‘lesser’ albums of the year at the time, but it has outlasted many records that I preferred back then. The slightly hushed quality and campfire sound effects etc give it a unique charm; I keep meaning to check out more of their work (and have listened to bits and pieces) but I kind of like having this one perfect album.
John Baizley, Nate Hall & Mike Scheidt – Songs of Townes Van Zandt Vol II (My Proud Mountain)
What I said then:
Powerful versions of Townes Van Zandt’s earthy folk/blues songs, all the better for the starkness of the recordings.
What I say now – another one that was a bit of a sleeper; I liked it, listened to it a lot, and moved on. But at some point it suddenly felt very relevant and I feel like I know/feel the songs much better now.
Nebelung – Palingenesis (Temple of Torturous records)
What I said then:
This instrumental ‘dark folk’ album is probably one of my most listened-to albums of the year; beautifully atmospheric music that seems imbued with the essence of autumn.
What I say now – not much to add to that, really. This year the band released a re-recording of their checked out the recent re-recording of their 2005 debut, Mistelteinn and it’s really good, but I prefer the purely instrumental album.
There’s a very Miles Davis-y feel to this album, despite the psychedelic and drone elements. The blend of Simmons’ sax with Moksha Samnyasin (Michel Kristoff’; sitar, Thomas Bellier; bass, Sébastien Bismuth (drums, electronics) is what great free jazz is about; not aimless noodling, but intuitive, almost telepathic interplay and the exotic atmospheres and intense moods that result.
What I say now – Nomadic ended up being one of those albums where what were initially my least favourite tracks have ended up being my favourite ones. Its richness keeps it alive.
Secrets of the Moon – SUN (Lupus Lounge)
What I said then:
There’s not a lot of emotionally complex black metal music out there; a shame, because the expressive possibilities of the form are arguably greater and more powerful than any other metal genre. Also a shame, because, as with any genre of music, the best black metal transcends its idiom and is simply great music; and such is SUN, the sixth album by the always-dependable Secrets of the Moon. ‘Dependable’ is rarely used as a huge compliment for a band, but although the last few Secrets.. albums have been powerful and mature, none of them really suggested an album as immense as SUN. Inspired to a large extent by the suicide of ex-bass player LSK, it’s a work full of strange, desolate yet apparently hopeful imagery. Mysterious, elusive, it’s an album whose emotional punch is as unexpected as it is tangible.
What I say now – SUN was consistently an album whose songs popped up on shuffle and amazed me with their greatness. Although a black metal album of sorts, it doesn’t really follow any of the genre’s conventions; what I said above, in fact.
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ALSO-RANS & ODDITIES
Ancient VVisdom – Deathlike
I loved this at the time, but even then I preferred their debut A Godlike Inferno – and now I find I still listen to that, but rarely Deathlike…
Boards of Canada – Tomorrow’s Harvest
The downside to BoC’s more ambient approach with this album is that it is great while it’s on, but I rarely think about it between times
Manierisme – フローリア
I have failed to convince people of Manierisme’s genius more than almost any other band. And I still think Jekyll is a genius, but the balance of horribleness to sepia-toned nostalgia isn’t as successful here as on his earlier work.
Eleni & Souzana Vougioukli – To Be Safe
I’d absolutely still recommend this brilliant and beautiful album to anyone, but it ended up having less longevity for me than I expected
Beastmilk – Climax
See above; a very good album, but retro gothy rock felt surprisingly fresh when Beastmilk (now Grave Pleasures) released their debut; now it doesn’t
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – Push The Sky Away
Possibly I am just spoiled for choice with Nick Cave, but at the time I thought this would take its place with Tender Prey, The Good Son, Henry’s Dream etc, but I listen to those regularly, this only every now & then
Absentia Lunae – Vorwarts (ATMF)
It’s not that I don’t like this fine black metal album, it’s just that I want all of their work to grip me in the same way that their mighty In Vmbrarvm Imperii Gloria does. And it doesn’t, quite.
Mirel Wagner – When the Cellar Children See the Light of Day (Sub Pop)
I remember this being great, and I think it is – but I haven’t really gone back to it since the initial excitement wore off.
Scott Walker & Sunn O))) – Soused (4AD)
My initial (but positive) impression that this is somehow just slightly less good than either Scott Walker or Sunn O)))’s usual records has grown – it’s not as good.
YOB – Clearing the Path to Ascend (Neurot Recordings)
Don’t get me wrong; this is one hundred percent a fantastic album, it’s just that its main legacy for me has been to send me back to Mike Scheidt’s criminally underrated 2012 solo album Stay Awake
Jarboe and Helen Money – Jarboe and Helen Money (Aurora Borealis Recordings)
Pretty simple – great record, but I wore it out by listening to it too much. It may come back though.
Odessey & Oracle – Odessey and Oracle and the Casiotone Orchestra (Folkwit Records)
Same – brilliant album, but extremely strongly flavoured in a way that makes it not for all moods…
Valet – Nature (Kranky Records)
A good album that I barely remember; will have to check it out again at some point, though.
Right; time to get on with the albums of the year….
Stunning return to form for Germany’s ‘dark metal’ overlords.
4. The History of Colour TV – Something Like Eternity (Cranes Records/Weird Books, 2017)
The third album by Berlin indie/shoegaze/noise rock trio The History of Colour TV has some powerfully Sonic Youth-like squalling as well as some really good tunes.
5. Ma Rainey – Black Eye Blues (1930)
Heartbreakingly sad but also funny and rebellious blues performance by one of my favourite blues singers, with brilliant guitar playing by Tampa Red
6. Heikki Sarmanto Serious Music Ensemble – The Helsinki Tapes, Vol 1, 2 & 3 (Svart Records)
Great, previously unreleased live recordings from the Finnish jazz scene. I was initially a bit disappointed when a singer appeared on some of the recordings, but in fact ‘The Pawn‘ from Vol 2 (featuring Maija Hapuoja) is a moody ‘Riders on the Storm‘-esque masterpiece.
7. Daniel Land – In Love With A Ghost (2016)
Much as I hate the term ‘dream pop’, it does suit a lot of the lovely, gently melancholy music on this album
Cool and unusual hip hop/trap type stuff, she has a style that is not quite like anything else (disclaimer – that I know of)
9. Isasa – Los Días (La Castanya, 2016)
The second album by Spanish guitarist Isasa has a mellow, slightly hungover charm, it’s spare, basic sound, accentuating his beautiful guitar playing and the atmospheric power of the tunes.
10. Tom Waits – Nighthawks At The Diner (Asylum, 1976)
One of my favourite Tom Waits albums, a funny, boozy and cheerfully melancholy live album (albeit recorded in somewhat contrived surroundings) I hadn’t listened to it for ages but I love it just as much as always.
11. 11Paranoias – Reliquary For A Dreamed Of World (Ritual Productions, 2016)
Forbiddingly sludgy and somewhat psychedelic doom with, crucially, great songwriting to make it more than just a cool sound – an addictive album.
12. Effie – Pressure (2016)
I was sent the promo of this single in the spring and just never got around to listening to it because I assumed it wouldn’t be my cup of tea; and it isn’t really. But it’s pretty good r’n’b/pop really, and she’s got a very cool voice.
13. Mithras – On Strange Loops (Willowtip Records, 2016)
Supercharged progressive death metal, maybe their finest album to date
14. The Fall – Grotesque (After The Gramme) (Rough Trade, 1980)
Maybe my favourite Fall album (definitely one of my favourites; so many great tunes, best of all ‘Gramme Friday‘, ‘Impression of J. Temperance‘, ‘Container Drivers’ – actually they are nearly all great.
15. The Staple Singers – Will The Circle Be Unbroken (Buddha Records, 1969)
Re-release of some of the family’s early gospel recordings, incredibly soulful and atmospheric.
It was a beautifully clear, cold autumn-heading-into-winter evening in Edinburgh. As the eight o’clock concert approached, the streets of Newington were calm and mostly empty. After a few moments of worry about finding the venue I realised I knew where it was, which was handy.
Although a seated solo show with readings from the author’s works, prefixed ‘An Evening With…’ seems about as grown-up and civilised as a rock concert can be, there’s (for me at least) a slightly surreal edge of teenage flashback about the whole thing, not least because of Summerhall itself. Once a veterinary school, the artwork and noticeboards on the walls, the sets of double doors, the echoing stairways and empty rooms along the weakly lit corridors conjure exactly that atmosphere of being at school after hours, all the more powerful for being unexperienced for 25 years or so.
The sinisterly-named but actually very pleasant ‘Dissection Room’ itself initially strengthens the familiar atmosphere, despite the high, somewhat church-like ceiling. The rows of plastic seats in front of the low stage have, if it wasn’t for the side room with a bar, an irresistible feeling of the end of term school concert. And what better person to see here than Kristin Hersh? Like many people of my generation, my first encounter with the singer/songwriter/guitarist was in 1991 when Throwing Muses’ ‘Counting Backwards’ became an indie hit, followed shortly by the release of their Top 40 hit album The Real Ramona. I loved it; I still love it, and while the music press at the time were pushing the band’s other singer/guitarist, Tanya Donelly, as no. 1 indie pinup (or possibly co-no.1 with Curve’s Toni Halliday) for me, Throwing Muses were all about Kristin Hersh. I liked her voice better, I liked her songs better (I had a bigger crush on her) and while Donelly’s post-Throwing Muses band Belly was definitely to my liking, they didn’t grip me in the same way Throwing Muses, or Kristin Hersh’s solo work did. Never saw her live though.
Photo by Dina Douglass
So, on this very crisp November night, sitting among the politely expectant audience, already loving Kristin’s new album/book (which I pointlessly gripped in my sweaty hand through the show, I was quietly excited. The stage was set with a chair, two guitars, a couple of pedals (which I had a look at later; for fact fans, they were an acoustic simulator and a chromatic tuner) and a small table/case of some kind with a small pile of books on top. Based on the sound of the album I had expected an acoustic guitar, but in fact she plays (what I think is) a Fender Classic Series ’72 Telecaster thinline, with which which she manages to – but wait, here she comes.
Stepping slightly self-consciously onto the stage, Kristin smiles at the crowd, warns us that she can’t see without her glasses, so to scream for attention if required, and takes her seat. A small, neat blonde figure informally dressed in a long skirt and pink t-shirt, Hersh is both pixie-like and indomitable, her piercing eyes noticeable even from my seat in the 6th or 7th row. She is also, as I knew from her records but somehow hadn’t really considered until now, an exceptional guitarist. So, after a brief and funny apology in advance for playing new songs, she launches into Wyatt at the Coyote Palace’s enigmatic opening track, ‘Bright’. The sound is very close to the album, the rich, reverberating tone of the guitar filling the lofty space of the hall and more than making up for the lack of the very detailed layers of the recordings.
The relaxed and good-humoured show was weighted towards solo material, with a few Throwing Muses songs and readings from her books punctuating the set. With the sound pared down to one woman and a guitar, the differences between the more punky band material and her solo work (even the folk songs of Murder, Misery and Then Goodnight) are minimised. This isn’t to say that it’s an evening of hushed softness; in fact the presentation brings out the feral power lurking in songs like Crooked’s melodious ‘Mississippi Kite’ as well as – and I mention it because it was the high point of the show for me personally – starkly bringing out the desolation at the heart of ‘Sno cat’; not that it was very different from the album version particularly, but it was one of those instances where the context of the spoken introduction (an anecdote rather than a reading) filled the gaps in the allusive, oblique lyric and gave it a huge emotional impact.
Probably the most rapturous reaction from the audience came fairly early in the set with the performance of the forlorn 1994 classic ‘Your Ghost’ which was as (sorry) haunting as ever and, gave me one of those indescribable flaneur-ish ‘alone in a crowd’ moments that are extremely powerful while being neither happy or sad exactly. There were many other highlights; the aforementioned ‘Sno cat’ several from Wyatt… the ‘Hooker Gazpacho’ reading, ‘Between Piety and Desire’ and ‘Guadalupe’. A reading from her memoir of the late Vic Chesnutt (Don’t Suck, Don’t Die) was followed by a beautiful version of ‘Bakersfield’ from his classic 1990 debut Little.
In the live setting, the relationship between the readings from her books and the songs they are connected with (I went on about it too much in my album review so won’t go on about why it’s good again here) is even more evident and the pacing of the set is perfectly judged and at about two hours, was over far too soon. There was a three-song encore, including a great version of the brilliant (and in the context of Kristin’s introductory anecdote very funny) Throwing Muses classic ‘Cottonmouth’, which was one of the first songs that introduced me to her music, twenty-five years ago; a strange, sad, happy kind of magical feeling. And shortly thereafter Kristin left the stage.
Apparently I regressed to my teenage state during those two hours; I was too ‘spellbound’ I suppose, to take any pictures while the show was on, and then, despite ten years or so of writing about music and interviewing bands, I lurked around for a bit, chatted to the sound guy, clutched the book I had intended to get signed, faded into the background and eventually wandered out into the wintry (though not quite frosty) city night, feeling a mixture of things that added up to ‘satisfied’ in a way that was absolutely definitive of the adolescent version of me that fell in love with Kristin Hersh and her music in the first place. It was a good show. I wish she’d done ‘American Copper’, but you can’t have everything.
2016 – oh well; at least there was lots of good music released this year (and it’s still coming!)
As usual, I probably won’t put my favourite releases of the year in any order (apart from the number one ‘release of the year’ itself. I know album or record of the year sounds better, but there are non-albums too, so ‘releases’ it is).
Last year, I made a parallel list of ‘most listened to’ albums that weren’t from that year. But that was a total pain, so probably not this time.
So, in short, who knows how many parts this will be in, or what it will include? Not me, yet. But soon!
It’s Halloween next week; and what better time to write a few words about the parallel universe of outsider music? ‘Outsider music’ is one of those nebulous but still quite useful terms that litter the language of music. Like “singer-songwriter”, it doesn’t really denote a specific style, genre or sound, but also like “singer-songwriter”, it conjures a specific image, or set of images; the lonely, perhaps crazily talented, perhaps technically inept, perhaps emotionally unstable or mentally ill musician or songwriter who definitely has something unique to communicate; but not something that the majority of listeners will want to hear, and therefore not something that the mainstream (or even non-mainstream but still commercial) music industry thinks it can sell, at least initially.
The (relatively speaking) successful outsider artist garners an inevitably niche/selective/small fanbase over time (the definition of a ‘cult following’) and these fans are drawn to their music for a variety of reasons; various hues of sheer curiosity, amusement, a genuine love of the outré qualities of the artist’s work, or just a recognition that, however it has expressed itself, there is a genuine talent at work, albeit one working outside of the usual boundaries of popular music and/or taste. Every now and then an outsider artist even becomes genuinely successful and achieves ‘insider’ status (I just made that up; Christ knows what ‘insider music’ would be), but mostly even the successes; Syd Barrett, Captain Beefheart, Daniel Johnston, Tiny Tim – end up inhabiting a kind of twilight zone version of fame that is far removed from the experience of the mainstream artist. People usually discover their work because of its notoriety; by chance, or by reputation, but rarely because it’s played in public spaces, on the radio or on MTV (or Spotify, for that matter).
Jandek’s ‘Staring at the Cellophane’ (1982)
It’s notable too, that outsider artists are rarely made famous in the first instance by the public (honourable exception; Tiny Tim, but it seems fairly likely that the public at the time saw him – not surprisingly – as a comedy novelty act, rather than the genuinely peculiar character he seems to have been.) Mostly, it is musicians, followed by critics, who initially recognise the appeal of outsider artists; probably because on the whole they tend to listen more closely to a greater volume/quantity of music than most people and are therefore attuned to listen for something different, whereas those within the talent-spotting wing of the music industry also hear lots of music but have, by and large, been listening for something similar to whatever is successful at the time, or at least something saleable. In a few cases (mostly those already mentioned, but also, far more shockingly, Jandek; a fascinating artist whose massive body of work is surely one of the most forbiddingly bleak and uncommercial in the ‘singer-songwriter’ sphere) the musicians enjoy some critical acclaim and are invited to come in from the cold, to play some shows and gently erode their mystique. In becoming something more than outsiders, but something far less than mainstream celebrities, the classic outsider artist loses something of their appeal, perhaps because entertaining (or ‘entertaining’) a real audience, made up of fans and interested parties leads to a significantly different kind of music from communicating with oneself or, at best an imaginary and perhaps ideal audience. It’s basically the same process that happens with any artist when they exchange whatever their lives and inspirations were, for the life and experiences of a successful musician.
Naturally, there isn’t a vast amount of literature on outsider music; or demand for a vast amount of literature on outsider music, but for a highly readable and well-researched overview, Irwin Chusid’s Songs in the Key of Z, The Curious Universe of Outsider Music (Chicago Review Press, 2000) (and the associated compilation album) is still pretty unbeatable (although the old RE/Search books ‘Incredibly Strange Music’ vols 1 & 2 from the early 90s are also packed with great stuff, not all ‘outsider’, but all worth a look).
Not appearing in any those pages though, is one of my favourite purveyors of outsider music, the one-man (David Vora) Irish band Venusian Death Cell. I’m slightly reluctant to write about VDC because (a) I have only heard a fraction of his music and (b) labelling someone as an ‘outsider artist’ feels a bit harsh in a way. Theoretically (and perhaps actually at some point, judging by his extensive bio below) some kind of metal band, there is no metal to be heard on any of the VDC albums I own, perhaps because (judging by sound alone) it’s difficult to approximate heavy metal with one guitar, no distortion/effects pedals, a small drum kit, a four-track recorder and one man working everything, and also hard to be metal-to-the-max when singing about soya desserts or ‘actor Ian McCulloch’ and when one’s cover art – though on its own terms highly evocative and suited to the music – is not quite up to the standard of the archetypical Derek Riggs style metal album cover.
So, the appeal of VDC – in the albums I have – is mainly not its metallic or heavy element. Sonically, the artist Vora’s music most resembles is the aforementioned Jandek , but – and it’s a crucial part of the appeal of outsider music generally – the personality/atmosphere and themes imbued in Venusian Death Cell’s work are entirely unique. Whereas Jandek’s work was/is lo-fi as music but mysteriously professional (or at least not hand-made) in its presentation (back in the early 80s he was putting out vinyl albums with picture sleeves just like (well, not just like) any small indie band on an actual label, Vora’s is unashamedly home-made, distributed on CD-Rs with photocopied artwork and lyrics. He is also a more accessible person, insofar as his own name, address and email address appear on the album inlays, while Jandek works through the austerely impersonal facade of the quasi-corporate ‘Corwood Industries’.
The VDC discography as far as I can make it out is below, it may not be complete and titles of the measly few albums I own are in bold. I will get more of them eventually. Some names may be wrong; I got them from the bio above and they aren’t all easy to read.
p a r t i a l d i s c o g r a p h y
1996 – Reap Invert (tape)
1997 – Natural Harmony (professional 24-track studio recording!)
Halloween V was my introduction to Venusian Death Cell and is possibly my favourite of the three I have. It’s definitely the least aggressive-sounding, more like a one-man version of The Shaggs than the metal I expected, despite the imagery and songs with titles like ‘Lucifer’, Cold Cancer’ and ‘Zombie Flesh Eaters’ (full lyric below, just because). It also has some oddly wistful, quite affecting songs like the haiku-esque ‘For You’ – “You are depression/Breaking free/Now Happiness/You were alone/Now you’re happy/Lovely for you.”
2013 – Abandonned Race (sic)
Far more chaotic and noisy, mainly because it has far more and louder percussion and therefore more shouted vocals, Abandonned Race is also a far less happy experience than Halloween V, but as good in its way. Topics are bizarrely wide-ranging, from religion, black metal and relationships to mental health and soya products (‘Milkland Millennium’)
2014 – Honey Girl
The most recent of the VDC albums I’ve heard, Honey Girl is also the shortest (8 songs in approx ten minutes) and is very much in the mould of Abandonned Race; sonically slightly harsher than Halloween V, it’s a bracing blend of performance poetry, crude proto-noise-metal and therapy; the lyrics are preoccupied with what were presumably Vora’s circumstances at the time:
“Heavy drugs, weight gain/Strange happenings/Psychosis and madness” – Psychotic
Terrible paranoid fear/affecting my happiness/eating my mental health…” – Terrible Fear
Despite the explicit unhappiness, Honey Girl isn’t the harrowing experience one might expect. Vora’s art is cathartic, rather than suffocating, and the cheerful note on the back of Honey Girl‘s booklet – “Honey Girl is a labour of love! Thanks for listening, hope you enjoyed!” captures the feeling of the music; in unloading his woes, somehow Vora doesn’t dump them on the listener. And that, at least partly, is the appeal of the not-very-musical music and apparently random subject matter of Venusian Death Cult. The seeming lack of any kind of artifice is, given the sophistication of most popular music, very appealing. What Irwin Chusid refers to as “the outsider sine qua non of earnestness” is present everywhere in Vora’s music. When he writes in the sleevenote to Abandonned Race, “Abandonned Race is a musical journey mainly for my own pain & pleasure rather than proving anything to those who happen to hear it.” it rings absolutely true. And this is not a kind of quasi-childlike ‘innocence’; Vora’s lyrics may not be written in the usual rock music language, but they are highly sophisticated, albeit in a matter of fact way:
Romancy – 1871 Lunacy Act in Ireland/Governs consent issues – /100% capacity to decide or none/Court makes all decisions about your life/(Criminal Law Act 1993)/Offense to have intercourse with mentally impaired/outside marriage (Halloween V: Halloween Horror) The explanatory note after the lyrics reads; “Lyrics are about those with extra support needs and their relationships”.
There are also forays into both Irish-language and French-language lyrics; which mean nothing to me, alas, but again underline that this is not a naive talent, just an unorthodox one. Whatever the language, VDC’s songs are mostly not all that easy (for me) to relate to; Vora’s preoccupations are not necessarily shared by everyone, or very many people at all – but that doesn’t make them less engaging. In fact, it’s the feeling that the listener is getting a glimpse into the normally private world of another human being – a sometimes troubled mind in all its seemingly unedited variety, brought to you by the medium of (nearly) music, that makes hearing Venusian Death Cell – and outsider music generally – such a refreshing experience. In the universe of Venusian Death Cell, with its seemingly random connections, weird logic and strangely semi-familiar landscapes, you (or at least I) and your everyday world are the outsider. It’s an interesting sensation.
Zombie Flesh Eaters
Ian McCulloch stars in films/Zombie Flesh Eaters, Zombie Holocaust and Contamination
Chorus: Zombie Flesh Eaters x 3
Daughter goes to find father/With Ian, the journalist/Zombie adventures on an island
Repeat Chorus
Video…nasties/Eye…gouged/Shark and zombie fight
Repeat Chorus
Notes: Lyrics are about the film Zombie Flesh Eaters, video nasties and the actor Ian McCulloch
Heartbreakingly sad but also funny and rebellious blues performance by one of my favourite blues singers, with brilliant guitar playing by Tampa Red
of literature on outsider music, but for a highly readable and well-researched overview, Irwin Chusid’s 
