The Head and the Heart – Let’s Be Still
By April Alayon
Seattle’s six-piece indie-folk group recently released their sophomore album Let’s Be Still, moving away from their heavily themed self-titled first album, The Head and the Heart. The new record does not have one theme as such, but rather, serves a variety of familiar emotions, making the album very comforting. Let’s be Still revolves around new sound avenues: bouncy and vibrant synthesizer beats are mixed with nostalgic lyrics.
Record opener “Homecoming Heroes,” features a catchy chorus and beautiful violin fills. Following the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting tragedy, the band sat down and wrote their reflections down, thus creating “Another Story.” The song is not meant to be commemorative, yet the lyrics and progression of the tune are strikingly sentimental.
Charity Thielen’s mellow but striking voice shines in “Springtime” and “Summertime;” the abrupt transition from the hauntingly sweet harmony of the former to the boppy basslines of the latter is a charming touch. The vocal style and harmony arrangements of “Summertime” hint at the band’s influential close friend from the road, Thao Nguyen of Thao & The Get Down Stay Down.
Imagine this: you’re slow dancing under dim lights with that special someone, not wanting the song and the moment to end. This feeling of halted time comes through in Thielen and Josiah Johnson’s placid vocals in “Let’s be Still.”
The guitar, piano, bass, shakers and tambourine harmonies in “Shake” succeed in making you want to dance, yet the powerfully evocative lyrics about past loves aren’t suppressed by this energy: “I can’t forget your face / even if it was just a day, you won’t forget the one who’s making you shake.”
The familiarity of heartbreak hinges on the record’s powerful closer “Gone”: rhythmic drumming and an understated intro builds up slowly to create this passionate and heartfelt outro, mimicking the feeling of being left high and dry.
The record poignantly encapsulates the bitterness of life while celebrating it, bringing contentment to the listener. Let’s Be Still delivers with every song.
Basia Bulat – Tall Tall Shadow
By April Alayon
The Juno-nominated folk singer takes ownership of the darkness with her third album, Tall Tall Shadow. Like many before her, Basia Bulat went on a quest to find unconventional recording venues in order to achieve Tall Tall Shadow’s raw sound. Her pilgrimage paid off: her rich and full-bodied voice is exquisitely complemented by a 60-year old dance hall in Toronto.
Compared to her past two LPs, Oh, My Darling and Heart of My Own, this record is mature and modern — owed in part to her experimentation with a pianoette, synthesizer and a charango. Arcade Fire’s Tim Kingsbury and engineer Mark Lawson may deserve some credit; their inspiration drove Bulat’s metamorphosis from her traditional folk-sound to a more developed instrumental rendering of each song, like the drum machine and synthesizer in “Someone” and “Wires.”
In “It Can’t Be You,” Bulat relies on the bold sound of plucking the charango, an Andean instrument, and her stirring voice — which is a strong reminder that she hasn’t completely moved away from her traditional acoustic-folk sound. “Promise Not To Think About Love” provides an upbeat and hand-clappy tune to a cynical take on love.
Her poetic lyrics and powerful singing voice still resonate in Tall Tall Shadow, reminding us just why Oh, My Darling and Heart of My Own were so appealing in the first place. Memorable tracks include “Never Let Me Go” and “From Now On,” which feature Bulat’s trembling vocals delivered with fragility — a reflection of her vulnerability during the recording of this album.
Bulat came out of the dark and conquered the creative process to make an outstanding record. Tall Tall Shadow branches out from her first two LPs, but doesn’t lose sight of her signature folk minimalism.
Joy Division – Closer
By Max Hill
Unlike their Manchester brethren The Smiths, the four raincoat-clad members of the influential post-punk outfit Joy Division made no attempts to euphemize their slow descent into hopeless, aching depression. Instead, they let their twisted, angular film noir post-punk set the scene while lead singer Ian Curtis, the saddest man in rock and roll history, exhumed his own emaciated mental state.
Closer, the band’s final album — released roughly two months after Curtis’ now legendary suicide — is a harrowing and extraordinary listening experience.
As with any work of art released posthumously, it’s hard to listen to the LP without wondering where the band might have gone next. Sure, Joy Division’s three remaining members went on to form the fantastic synth rock trio New Order, but the absence of Curtis’ acutely melancholic lyrics and impassioned, grave delivery continues to hang around the band’s neck like an albatross.
Indeed, Curtis’ performance on Closer’s nine immortal tracks is among one of the most bracing and engaging in rock history. It’s as though you can hear him slowly disappearing over the course of the album — the distant, understated tone of “Heart and Soul”, the frenetic apology of “Isolation” and the deathbed plea of “The Eternal” are heartbreaking and riveting in equal measure, the brilliant flame of a singular talent burning out.
Closer is also the band’s musical apex: Peter Hook’s economic basslines are beautifully understated, Bernard Sumner’s guitar work is jaggedly erratic, and Stephen Morris’ drums are propulsive and obsessive. Though the surviving members of the band would go on to create more music — some good, some not so good, some brilliant — they never surpassed their work on this LP.
That Joy Division were able to convey so much sadness and poignancy in two studio albums and a handful of singles is one of the greatest artistic achievements of their (or any) era. This may not be easy listening, but it’s essential listening.
