Griff Says; It's Colorform - in sound and vision.

What a great month May has been so far for music. I've been so busy that I've neglected to mention Colorform; something that I've been meaning to do for some time and which I intend to remedy now. I came across Colorform on the CLLCT web-site and was immediately impressed by both the quality and the diversity of the songs on offer. I was also intrigued by the complementary visual element, which is part of the complete Colorform experience. You see, the musical component of Colorform comprises of; singer, lyricist, and guitarist Kate Logan, cellist Matt Logan and guitarist Ben Deibert. Seems straight-forward enough, right? However, in addition to the world of aural expression, Colorform also encompasses visual art. At all live performances and in rehearsals, NYC artist Sarah Valeri provides simultaneous live artwork, a process in which the two art forms are mutually inspired. When performing with the band, Sarah tapes a few sheets of drawing paper on the ground and uses pastels to draw on them as the music plays. Depending on the length of the set, she finishes one or two sheets of drawing. Each painting is unique and has a part of the venue in it. The drawings are up for sale after the show. Sarah is very much presented as an integral part of the band and at live shows her name is included in the band member introduction; “Sarah Valeri on colors".

As I've already mentioned , you can see Sarah's artwork, listen to the music and even download it for free at their CLLCT web-site. So why should you? Well, for those of you who need further convincing, we here at 'Streetlamp' have decided to give you a small taster of Colorform's unique brand of independent expression. We've provided two sample videos (below), which attempt to showcase the Colorform audio-visual experience. One of the things that has impressed me most about Colorform is that the band don't fall into the popular music cliche of using bowed strings as an afterthought to provide a superficial touch of classical sophistication. On the contrary, Matt's cello is absolutely central to the sound, and demonstrates an astonishing breadth of tone and expression. Possibly because of this, it can be difficult to describe the Colorform sound. On some songs, I think I can hear something akin to the stylish dream-pop of The Sundays, while on others their is an angrier almost aggressive vibe at work. If that sounds contradictory then have a listen and make your own mind up.

Hope you enjoyed those. The band can also be found on facebook, myspace and virb.

Griff
xx

Griff Says; Time for a short detour.

I wasn't planning to post today but I absolutely have to share this band with you. Called
Útidúr (pronounced: ooh! - detour) they are a twelve-piece indie-folk pop band from Iceland. They plan to record their first album this Summer. In the meantime the band has decided to give the world an early taste and have posted three demo/promo songs on
bandcamp. All the songs are available as free downloads.
If you like the idea of the sophisticated indie-folk of
The Cardigans mixed together with the orchestral folk eclecticism of
Beirut then I've a feeling you'll like Útidúr very much indeed.





Griff
xx

~Kitten Wine~ #8: 'Barnoon Hill'

'Barnoon Hill' by Pacific

Her name was Amy.
I never found out her second name, nor much else about her, yet, like Proust's petit-madeleine dipped in linden tea, just the sound of her name transports me back to time of innocence when EVERY night seemed like some entrancing experience. In truth I only knew her for a few hours but somehow I can visualise almost every second of the time I spent with her.

It was a Saturday in very early 1989. My friends, Douglas and Sharon, were going to a party in Glasgow and asked me to come along. Sharon had just started working for Tennent’s Live (when the Tennent’s brewery used to sponsor live concerts) and she had been invited to a works get-together to break the ice. They picked me up from work and we drove to Sharon's house so I could get showered and changed.
Earlier in the day, at lunchtime, I had gone along to the local record shop with the intention of buying 'The Hairstyle Of The Devil' by Momus which Steve Wright had (bizarrely) been championing on his radio show.


The single was in amongst a pile of Creation 7" singles all of which came in generic sleeves and all of which cost a paltry 99 pence. So, I took the Momus single, a single by The Weather Prophets called 'Hollow Heart', and one I hadn't heard of, 'Barnoon Hill' by a band called Pacific. I had the three singles with me as we headed to Glasgow, not expecting to get them played of course, more as a badge of look-at-me-cool!
The place where the 'party' was to take place was in some ancient monstrosity of late 19th century Glaswegian architecture, which had now been renovated into student flats; big, draughty, full of ghosts and overlooking a section of the Clyde.
The party was hardly a swinging affair; dull, office-worker types sat around talking arse as they listened to Simple Minds, U2, Hipsway and Hue & Cry. Not good!

Then I saw her......

Breton shirt, unkempt black shoulder-length hair and an insouciant air about her. Trouble was she looked a little old....you know, like REALLY old...like maybe (gulp!) THIRTY!! In a moment of unexpected bravery I began speaking to her....her name was Amy, and as soon as I looked into her impenetrably dark eyes, I was lost. She had one of those posh, West-End-Of-Glasgow sing-song accents and every word she uttered hit me like a stolen kiss. It seemed she lived in the flat and had her own room there. We got on really well, like we'd known each other for ages. With the party loosening up she grabbed a bottle of Bacardi Gold and led me to her room. It was like walking into a blast furnace of patchouli and incense. Her window looked directly onto the Clyde and we sat there looking at the people walking by. She had one of those old-fashioned record players with the arm that allowed you to stack 6 or 7 singles on it at a time.
As the alcohol loosened our inhibitions she opened up the large window and showed me the scaffolding that was wrapped around the building. We could actually step out onto the scaffolding as a platform had been created just under her window sill. In a moment predating that awful Rod Stewart record 'The Motown Song', you know, the one about going on the roof and listening to The Miracles echo through the alley down below, we put some records on the player and stepped out onto the ledge. She had chosen three to go along with the three I had brought with me. She chose 'Cattle And Cane' by The Go-Betweens,


'Christine' by Siouxsie And The Banshees and 'A Forest' by The Cure, all of which made the first record of mine to be played, the Momus single, sound very slight indeed, but it's a song I love dearly and looking over the cold Glasgow cityscape as it ran parallel to the Clyde, it sounded glacial. The Weather Prophet's single played itself out in an unimposing fashion, a good track if a little unmemorable.

Amy smoked Gitanes unfiltered cigarettes which stank and looked like joints. She lit one for me and I tried to inhale it, but it was like breathing in a house-brick. I immediately felt giddy; the nicotine rush ripping straight through my head. The stylus clicked onto 'Barnoon Hill', the single by Pacific of which I knew nothing......

A single keyboard note, a run of a squidgy-sounding synthesizer rhythm track and then a girl speaking in Japanese. My head was spinning (not a good thing when you're up some scaffolding), I looked at the neon lights reflected in the mirror surface of the Clyde as they merged with the blanket of stars than glimmered above us.......a strummy 12-string guitar so gossamer light it barely registers and then the real vocals begin. A voice so ‘clipped English’ it made Neil Tennant sound like Arthur Mullard; think of Jagger's unbearable hoary Southern drawl on 'Exile On Main Street' and this was the polar opposite. Lyrical references to dreams, memories and blankets of deep snow followed and I allowed myself to become lost as the cellos took over. The cars below all had windscreens that resembled trays of diamonds....."As the dark side of happiness grows".....I extended my arms, crucifix style, soaking in the moment. Amy smiled at me, a smile so warm and dazzling that something inside me broke, I almost felt like jumping.....angel trumpets on the track now lifting me to a higher state; alcohol, very high tar smoke and the cold night air mixing with the sweetest smile and the perfect soundtrack....a needle-gun etching a memory on my soul....the chorus; "It's all going down now// And such secrets I can't hide// You're treading dirty water// You lose strength down deep inside"....how can a song so poignant and so mournful sound so uplifting? Then a girl's voice cut through the haze....I thought it was Amy and almost slipped in shock..."Talk to me// Talk but don't leave me"...but it was on the record....the chorus returns, sweet trumpets float on the ether and the song comes to an end. I stood there with a film of frost clinging to my jacket, a huge grin and a fire burning somewhere inside me.
We climbed back into the room and swigged some more Bacardi.

The rest of the night played out in subdued conversation and drowsy laughter.
In the morning we both played it cool, not letting on that we had shared a moment. We didn't swap numbers...I reckoned that if she was keen she'd ask Sharon for my number, and if I still felt the same way next weekend, I'd ask Sharon for Amy's number. But fate, and two pretty blonde girls called Gail and Louise, were waiting like snipers to gun me down and take my life in a totally different direction just a few days later.....and Amy became just another memory.

Some 20 odd years later as I listen again to 'Barnoon Hill' I realise I can't ever listen to it without thinking about her and that night on the scaffolding....

More tea, Marcel?



~Gordon~

Griff says; 'All hands on deck! It's Rum Tum Tiddles'

Yaaar! Listen up ye scurvy dogs, Cap'n Griff has some good news for you. I received a nice e-mail containing some good news from the lovely Madeleine (pictured) of 'Rum Tum Tiddles' this week. If that band name doesn't ring any bells as yet then sit back, relax and prepare to be educated and enthralled. Rum Tum Tiddles are a band made up of Thomas Bevand, Madeleine Mosse and Fred Lambert. They are based in Nantes, France, although Madeleine, their singer, is English. Thomas and Madeleine met in the Balkans where they shared a very cold flat which experienced frequent shortages in electricity. This led to many candle-lit singing sessions, where Tom would play his guitar and Madeleine would sing covers (often of the gloomy folk variety). When they found themselves in France they began to play and sing with other people; leading to a very happy union with mandolin maestro Fred.

Calling themselves 'Rum Tum Tidles', the trio began to forge an amiable, acoustic, indie-folk sound, which can veer refreshingly from silly to poignant in the space of one song without ever compromising the quality of the song-writing. I first came across them a couple of years ago and since then have kept a close eye on them as a band definitely destined for bigger and better things. It appears my intuition was correct, as Madeleine's e-mail reveals:

"I have just posted news on myspace to say that our record will be out in the next few months (probably September.) It is called 'We Could Be Pirates' and will be released by Waterhouse Records in France. There will also be a new website with some free music to download and also to stream - coming very soon. We'll keep people posted about that through our myspace page."

I'm pleased to say that many of the songs from the band's first two albums, self-released on their own 'pirates' label, are already available as free downloads on their last.fm page. If you are still wondering what top-notch, cross-channel, indie-folk, pop jauntiness sounds like, then wonder no more. We here at 'The Streetlamp' have the following videos ready for your enjoyment:

'We Could Be Pirates' from 'Seven Hands'

'Are We Past' from 'Sad and Silly Songs'

and finally, as a little bonus, this claptastic version of 'It's Too Late'.

We hope you enjoyed that and we hope too that you'll support the band by visiting their site, going to see them play live and buying the new album when it comes out.

Griff

xx