Recently I was watching Luis Bunuel’s Tristana, at home alone ’round about midnight, a film that’s perhaps not immediately recognized as one of his best. Then again, Tristana’s got quite a few things working in its favor: it’s one of just two Bunuel films that star Catherine Deneuve (who gave arguably a better performance here than in the more oft-mentioned Belle de Jour); the story arc’s pretty wicked; and it’s a film that sports a few of those ravishing surrealistic touches that the Spanish filmmaker is known for. And one thing you can always say about Bunuel is that the guy directed each of his 31 films with an untamed heart.
Which brings us to Califone and the mercurial All My Friends Are Funeral Singers, an album that happens to reference Bunuel in a few of the songs. (There is apparently a companion film of the same title.) “Funeral Singers”, a vertiginous mix of shuffling acoustic blues and skulking singalongs, presents a rather intriguing, stripped-down portrait of Califone’s music, a lively anachronism unrepentantly out of step with modern conveniences. The song’s vague lyrical preoccupations, seemingly about disembodied spirits and with Tim Rutili’s vocals sounding uncanny as ever, further place “Funeral Singers” on the map of decidedly strange terrains – where it’s dreamy weather, away from the hiss of suburbia, a mirthful rat-and-tat filling up disused rooms wreathed in narcotic warmth. – keith.
mp3: califone – funeral singers
Califone’s All My Friends Are Funeral Singers is available on Dead Oceans.
upon the release of ghostfather by singaporean band humpback oak in 1997, local musician, dj and critic chris ho termed their music “heart-core”. listening again to ghostfather after all these years, i can’t help but agree with that label, even if it sounds a little awkward and clumsy today. the wry, brooding folk of the quartet led by leslie low (now of the observatory) never shied away from matters of the heart, whether via personal or philosophical routes. at the same time, their music was always biting and penetrating, digging beneath the surface despite the pain and discomfort. for me, the song that captures this best is the album closer “pain”, a song that walks with such trepidation across the experiences of confusion and hurt, whilst building up repeatedly to a chorus that forcefully tears apart the wretchedness of sorrow from the joy of pain. it’s a harrowing conclusion to an exhausting journey that rewards you for sticking it to the end. – dan.
mp3: humpback oak – pain
humpback oak’s entire discography has been reissued in a limited boxset titled oaksongs. it will be sold exclusively at polymath & crust (86 club street, singapore) this weekend (27 & 28 feb, 1-5pm).
the silver mt. zion‘s latest release, kollaps tradixionales, stands out for its unmistakable symmetry spread over 4 lp sides. sides 1 and 4 begin and end the record with the ebb and flow of long, winding movements reaching deep into their familiar repertoire of mournful strings, tensely depressed piano keys, and cries of desperation by orchestra leader efrim menuck. side 2 builds upon their more recent obsession with punk and rock with a more crushing brutality delivered in two parts, both inseparable components of the live favorite “metal bird”. in contrast, side 3 turns on itself with some degree of introspection by exploring the album’s title and theme in a 3 part concerto. at the heart of it is “collapse traditional (for darling)”, a work of stunning brevity that captures a rare instance the band lets down its guard by casting aside its ideology and ethos and laying bear a soul still brimming with childlike wonder. it’s a moment to savor, even if it goes by as quickly as it came. – dan.
mp3: thee silver mt. zion memorial orchestra – collapse traditional (for darling)
kollaps tradixionales is now out on constellation.
through the years, scott walker has acquired a certain reputation for being ahead of his time and creatively uncompromising. and sure enough, his early solo albums in the sixties (the scott 1-4 albums) tend to be rather divisive. some people would find this music to be hopelessly melodramatic, while others can’t get enough of his enigmatic songs about the plague, plastic palace people and earthy prostitutes who dream of a fire escape in the sky, his ability to create trance-inducing beauty in the loneliest of places. “it’s raining today” is one of my favorites, and it’s an elegant snapshot of walker’s gifts as a songwriter and arranger. i’ve always liked the way the ominous strings creep up from a distant background and drift along like a proustian reverie while the singer retraces his steps to a forgotten corner of the universe, haunted by visions of the train-window girl he’s trying to forget. life is elsewhere already, he seems to be saying amid the hallucinatory unease, and so be it. – keith.
mp3: scott walker – it’s raining today
one of the powerful qualities of music is its ability to deal emphatically with human brokenness, often as cathartic release as in the case of the break-up album. a much tougher issue to address, though, is the theme of aging and mortality, perhaps owing to its individual rather than relational nature that makes it so much harder to articulate, much less express lyrically and musically. mark everett, the man behind eels, combines the two uncompromisingly in his latest album end times, in managing to remain emotionally sincere without indulging in self-misery. for someone who’s had to deal with both his mother’s death and sister’s suicide just a couple of years apart (see 1998’s electro-shock blues), the reality of death could not be more pronounced. in the achingly nostalgic “in my younger days”, everett single-handedly confronts the limitations of age, and faces up to what he’s become without resorting to bitterness (now i’m a statistic/but i’m not fatalistic/i’m not yet resigned to fate/and i’m not gonna be ruled by hate). yet, the yearning for love remains ever so strong in the face of loss, something that makes growing old so very much harder. – dan.
mp3: eels – in my younger days
end times is now available on their online store.
it’s always been a great thrill introducing the finest local talents to an international audience through MAP. this month, we’re especially excited to be attacking your ears with the ferocious sounds of stellarium, as handpicked by our local music ambassador brian koh. even as we speak, their recently released self titled album is generating interest among shoegazers abroad, with one listener describing it as “what [a place for burying strangers’ latest album] exploding head should have been”. heads up everyone – this is one Singaporean act you shouldn’t miss. Continue reading
you’re my dreams come true girl.
mp3: cass mccombs – dreams come true girl