The Al Purdy Songbook

The Al Purdy Songbook – Various Artists (Borealis)

“Though poets die, a lullaby still whispers faintly in the room,” sings Sarah Harmer on a song she adapted from an Al Purdy poem for this project.

Those words were certainly true in 2016, when we lost both Leonard Cohen and Gord Downie to the dead poets society. But at the same time, the work of another great Canadian poet, who died in 2000, was echoing with a new resonance, thanks to the 2015 film Al Purdy Was Here, the directorial debut from former Maclean’s film critic Brian D. Johnson.

That film was a triumph on several levels: as vital Canadian cultural history, as a visually gorgeous film (shot by Nicholas de Pencier, who collaborates with Jennifer Baichwal on films like Long Time Running, Watermark and the new Anthropocene), as a documentary with a surprising twist, and, finally, as a catalyst for some of this country’s greatest musicians to engage with Purdy’s work. Johnson had always intended music to be a huge part of his film, and for a variety of reasons it took three years for this soundtrack of sorts to come to fruition. But it’s finally here, and it’s fabulous. (It also comes packaged with a DVD/Blu-Ray of the film.)

  

It opens with Bruce Cockburn, whom Johnson coaxed out of semi-retirement to write and record “3 Al Purdys”—which in turn became an anchor track on Cockburn’s most recent album, Bone to Bone. It also features one of the last things Leonard Cohen ever recorded: a recitation of “Necropsy of Love.” The parade of legends doesn’t stop there: Margaret Atwood recites “Wilderness Gothic,” Greg Keelor adapts Purdy’s poem “Woman” into “Unprovable” (“As unprovable as the sun on the other side of the world”). Gord Downie appears not once, but twice: with his highly underrated 2010 song “The East Wind,” which lifts lightly from Purdy, and a recitation of “At the Quinte Hotel,” which is a poem that “a sensitive man” such as Downie was born to read: it’s about bar fights in century-old hotels—something the Tragically Hip are more than familiar with—and about how poetry will buy you neither beer nor respect. Downie also does a striking Purdy impression at one point in the poem.

The best track here, however, goes to Downie disciple and friend Sarah Harmer, whose “Just Get Here” is not only perhaps the best melody she’s written in almost 20 years, but it summarizes the spirit of Purdy’s A-frame in Ameliasburg, Ontario, in Prince Edward County, which functioned as a gathering place for generations of Canadian poets—and continues to do so, having been restored for artist residencies. (A fundraising campaign to make that possible was the catalyst for Johnson’s interest in making this film.) On top of all that, her vocal and piano performance is devastating. While Harmer fans continue to hold out for new material (which is actually coming, though long delayed), this alone compensates for the eight-year wait.

 

Also appearing: Doug Paisley, Snowblink, Jason Collett, Felicity Williams, and Bidiniband—Dave Bidini, of course, like Downie, an enormous Purdy fan, who sampled Purdy’s voice on a 1994 Rheostatics song. If there’s any complaint with the choice of contributors, it’s that they all hail from an easy driving distance to Al’s A-frame; Purdy’s influence was felt far and wide across the Great White North, not just Ontario.

Tribute albums to musicians are often a hit-and-miss affair; this tribute to a poet, however, in which musicians were free to end the original text to their own uses, works brilliantly. Whether or not the name Al Purdy means anything to you: see the film, listen to the music, and, by all means, go back to the original texts. And say the names. (Nov. 9)


The album is being launched Tuesday, Nov. 26 at the Arts and Letters Club in Toronto, at 7.30 p.m.

Stream: “Just Get Here” by Sarah Harmer, “Transient” by Doug Paisley, “At the Quinte Hotel” by Gord Downie

Jason Collett - Song and Dance Man

Jason Collett – Song and Dance Man (Arts and Crafts)

This album’s title track has a veteran performer kvetching about the collapse of the music industry: “Pass the hat for pennies / kickstart some fans.” You can’t argue his point. But rather than angry cheap shots fired by an old cynic, “Song and Dance Man” is more matter-of-fact, a plainspoken portrait of the state of the nation, no different than Bruce Springsteen eulogizing the Rust Belt.

It’s also potent because here we have someone pushing 50 who’s never given up, against all odds, a performer who benefited from the patronage of both elders (Skydiggers, Andrew Cash) and upstarts (Broken Social Scene) and has now mentored a next generation who are returning favours (Zeus): this, Collett’s eighth album, is produced by his former guitarist, Afie Jurvanen of Bahamas.

Most important: It’s probably Collett’s finest record to date, a folk-rock masterpiece in which vivid vignettes are set to earworms, with everything about Jurvanen’s production bringing the songs to vivid life. Jurvanen lays down sparse but melodic bass lines, while Bougie makes her pedal steel sing and plucks her electric in ways that make it sound like a marimba. Drummer/engineer Don Kerr’s mastery of subtlety masks the complexity of the minor touches he adds throughout. Backing vocals are key here, as they are in Bahamas—there’s even an unlikely nod to Dirty Mind-era Prince in the vocal arrangements on “Provincial Blues.”

“Honey, we all get left behind by the times, sometimes,” sings Collett. He could be talking about any situation, really, anyone rendered redundant or irrelevant in their career, their art, their life, or all three. Judging by this record, that’s not going to happen to Collett any time soon, if ever. Score one for the veteran who also deserves credit for what’s likely to be the best song title of 2016: “Forever Young is Getting Old.” (Feb. 4)

Stream: “Song and Dance Man,” “Little Sparrow,” “Provincial Blues”

November '10 reviews

The following reviews ran in the Kitchener-Waterloo Record and Guelph Mercury in November.

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Black Dub – s/t (Sony)

It’s easier to say what Black Dub is not rather than what it is: it is not a vehicle for the songs of Daniel Lanois, nor his voice; though it is texturally rich, it is not atmospheric pop; and—with the exception of single I Believe In You—it bears little relationship to Jamaican dub reggae music, as the band name might suggest.

If anything, this band—featuring master jazz drummer Brian Blade, longtime Lanois collaborator Darryl Johnson and young singer Trixie Whitley (daughter of the departed Chris Whitley, a client and friend of Lanois—is a showcase for the bluesy vocals of Whitley, a neophyte who certainly holds her own in the company of considerably more seasoned musicians. Yet that’s all it appears to be: a bunch of veterans hanging loose and letting the compelling young woman do her thing. Despite their long history of collaboration together, on Lanois’s records or with Emmylou Harris, they sound more like sidemen here than a band in their own right, and Whitley’s gospel-intensity vocals feel like they’d be better suited to music with a tougher edge.

Black Dub is the most accessible, pop-oriented album of Lanois’s solo career in years, which is no doubt in part why it rocketed to the top of the iTunes chart, and many fans will not be disappointed. And needless to say, it sounds amazing. But there’s a lot more potential in this project that has yet to be tapped. (Nov. 11)

Download: “I Believe In You,” “Ring the Alarm,” “Nomad”

Jason Collett – Pony Tricks (Arts and Crafts)

Jason Collett is currently on a solo tour; not coincidentally, he’s just released this album of stripped-down re-recordings of previously released songs. And not that his recent albums haven’t featured fine production and performances, but Collett’s songs sound much better here, in their bare essence, with little more than harmony vocals, occasional drums and maybe an accordion floating in the background. Collett’s skill as a rhythm guitarist can be drowned out on his other albums; here, his self-accompaniment shines. Likewise, when he’s not fronting a rock’n’roll band, his voice sounds much more at ease and less affected, at times downright intoxicating. Pure pop songs like "Bitter Beauty" get slowed down to a dead-stop tempo, and prove to be just as engaging. For much of his solo career, Collett has tried to resist being tagged as a folkie singer/songwriter as opposed to a pop artist—but this, his folkiest album to date, is easily one of the best things he’s ever done. (Nov. 4)

Download: “Bitch City,” “Bitter Beauty,” “Feral Republic”

Elvis Costello – National Ransom (Lost Highway)

Oh, enough already. Another year, another new album in Elvis Costello’s discography to mark a serious dent in his reputation. Just because his prolific output in his youth happened to result in albums that people still cherish 30 years later doesn’t mean he’s still capable of pulling off the album-a-year pace. What’s worse is that his Americana kick is still in full force, and no matter how much he hangs around T-Bone Burnett or Allen Toussaint, he still hasn’t learned the simplicity at the core of American folk songs; far too often he’s trying to shoehorn his dense narratives into an old-timey-sounding country shuffle, with forgettable melodies and off-the-cuff arrangements that don’t do the already weak songs any favours. An impassioned vocal delivery throughout only makes it all more mystifying, but at least he’s not phoning in that part, even if everything else sounds like he’s wearing someone else’s clothes. Tellingly, the best song here is called “I Lost You.”

Costello remains a powerful performer and a knowledgeable TV host; can we please declare a moratorium on new material, however? (Nov. 11)

Download: “I Lost You,” “You Hung the Moon,” “Stations of the Cross”

Tanya Davis – Clocks and Hearts Keep Going (independent)

Halifax’s Tanya Davis is an award-winning poet—but unlike most award-winning poets, you’ve probably heard her work. Over 1.8 million people have viewed a short film she narrated for director Andrea Dorfman, called How To Be Alone. Few of those people, however, are aware that Davis is also a singer/songwriter, but this album—her third, and produced by Jim Bryson—is likely to change that. Despite her literary background, Davis isn’t a poet adapting herself to a song format; she knows how to write an earnest and simple melody and let the music do most of the talking. Simplicity is her strength, and never more so than on “Sweep the Dust,” a gorgeous and lilting adult lullaby. (Nov. 25)

Download: “Mourn Your Losses,” “Eulogy for You and Me,” “Sweep the Dust”

Brian Eno – Small Craft on a Milk Sea (Warp)

Though Eno’s recent solo albums, including a collaboration with David Byrne, were more song-oriented, Small Craft on a Milk Sea is an instrumental affair that balances the atmospherics of his ambient work with more percussive electronic pieces that, on songs like “2 Forces of Anger,” can occasionally veer into rock territory. All of which, for such a well-known and little understood cult figure, makes this the ultimate introduction into everything Brian Eno is about as an artist and sound sculptor, one whose work and wide influence has spanned 40 years. If you’ve ever had difficulty navigating his uneven discography, which even diehard fans do, this is a welcome summation—and not one that’s about retreading past glories, but one firmly rooted in the present and just as contemporary as anything heard from the current generation of artists, a generation born around the same time Eno was composing his Music For Airports.

Download: “Dust Shuffle,” “Small Craft on a Milk Sea,” “Paleosonic”

Bryan Ferry – Olympia (EMI)

Bryan Ferry made Roxy Music’s Avalon album in 1980. Bryan Ferry has made many records since; all of them sound like Avalon. Some are almost as good—1985’s Boys and Girls, 1994’s Mamouna—but really, let’s be honest, they were no Avalon. So on that spectrum, Olympia is one of Ferry’s better solo records, populated more with his own songs (co-written with the Eurythmics’ Dave Stewart) than covers that he usually has a tendency to butcher—not that that hasn’t stopped him over the course of his 13 solo albums, especially 2007’s Dylanesque; thankfully, his take on Tim Buckley’s "Song to the Siren" here is one of his better interpretations.

As expected, Ferry is a suave, sultry leading man; the music is seductive, even if, as always with Ferry, you always feel somewhat underdressed for his cocktail party—the glamour shot of Kate Moss on the cover doesn’t help. Bryan Ferry will always be classier than you and me.

The list of his classy collaborators is outstanding: Pink Floyd’s David Gilmore, Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Flea, Chic’s Nile Rodgers, Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood, Groove Armada and the Scissor Sisters. Roxy Music fans will note the presence of that band’s Phil Manzanera, Andy Mackay and Brian Eno; though they were also present on Mamouna, some of these tracks were meant for a new Roxy Music album dating back to 2005.

As lovely as it all is, Ferry’s music still sounds more like a lifestyle accessory than anything else; maybe that’s all it has to be. Too bad it’s coming out before Destroyer’s early 2011 release Kaputt, which takes more than a few pages from Ferry’s solo career. (Nov. 4)

Download: “Heartache By Numbers,” “Shameless,” “Alphaville”

The Ghost of a Saber Tooth Tiger – Acoustic Sessions (Chimera)

Sean Lennon’s solo records—while pleasant enough—were never more than a curiosity for the freakiest of Beatle freaks, so it’s no surprise his new project, with girlfriend and model Charlotte Kemp Muhl, doesn’t grant him marquee status. Yet it’s very much Lennon’s show; Muhl’s cooing voice might be higher in the mix, but these are Lennon’s songs and his years of musical experience (musical director for his mother, Yoko Ono, as well as collaborating with his previous girlfriend, Cibo Matto’s Yuka Honda) overshadow Muhl’s presence. The Ghost of a Saber Tooth Tiger is a breezy affair—mostly acoustic, as the title indicates—with nods to Brazilian bossa nova and lightweight French pop music of the ’60s. As always with Lennon, there’s little here that says much about him as an artist as opposed to a craftsman; but without his name front and centre, perhaps that’s all he aims to be. (Nov. 4)

Download: “Lavender Road,” “Jardin du Luxembourg,” “Rainbows in Gasoline”

Cee-Lo Green – The Lady Killer (Warner)

Cee-Lo Green claims he wasn’t out to turn heads with his single “Fuck You,” which became a viral video hit this past summer. But if combining a bitter kiss-off with a classic-sounding soul song seems gimmicky—which it might be, but the strength of the song more than justifies it—the rest of The Lady Killer easily matches the momentum of what could have been a fluke hit.

The template of “Fuck You” is consistent with most of the rest of the album, with Green setting heartbroken, sometimes bitter, sometimes manipulative, sometimes just plain sad lyrics to upbeat, major-key melodies—which could also sum up 90 per cent of the Motown catalogue, really. And, as he did with Gnarls Barkley, there are times when he takes darker turns (“Bodies,” “Love Gun”), part of the mentally tormented persona that is part of all his songs.

That Green is an astounding soul singer is no secret; it was his voice, after all, that was central to the Gnarls Barkley smash hit single “Crazy.” But the material here finds him at full throttle, illustrating at times an almost operatic range. The music is firmly rooted in soul music from the ’60s to the ’90s, from Motown through Philly through Michael Jackson (the bass line in “Bright Lights Bigger City” is suspiciously similar to “Billie Jean”) to more modern technology—a trajectory that stops short before the likes of R. Kelly and Usher took R&B somewhere else entirely. But Green never sounds old-fashioned; he’s more of a renaissance man with a wide template to do whatever the f--- he wants. (Nov. 18)

Download: “Fuck You,” “It’s OK,” “Bright Lights Bigger City”

Kid Cudi – Man on the Moon II: The Legend of Mr. Rager (Universal)

Kid Cudi is a Kanye West protégé—but one that has certainly surpassed his mentor with this album. He is every bit as self-indulgent, and Man on the Moon II is just as much of a downer, mood-wise, as West’s latest. But musically, it’s a diverse and fascinating journey that sets Cudi apart from anyone else in proximity of mainstream hip-hop, including West; that Cudi is as big as he is seems almost miraculous, considering how outré his beats are.

Part of the reason for that is that Cudi is an admitted stoner; marijuana is his drug of choice, although there are others mentioned here, too. And just like drugs themselves, Kid Cudi is best in small doses; Man on the Moon II is far too long and Cudi eventually wears out his welcome, as stoners are wont to do. But being the introspective navel-gazer that he is, Cudi is well aware of the pitfalls of his chosen lifestyle, and this album sounds like a reckoning, a snapshot of an artist in transition. If he can begin to emerge from his own fog, Cudi could be one of the major hip-hop artists of the new decade—if he isn’t already. (Nov. 25)

Download: “The Mood,” “Wild’n Cuz I’m Young,” “Mr. Rager”

Doug Paisley – Constant Companion (No Quarter)

Soft-spoken male singer/songwriters are a dime a dozen; precious few have the magic that elevate them above that wispy din you hear in the corner of your local coffeehouse. And then there is Doug Paisley.

Presumably no relation to Brad, it’s hard to imagine this Toronto performer ever raising his voice above a soft croon. His own guitar work is compelling enough alone as accompaniment, but he manages to rope in members of The Band (Garth Hudson), Blue Rodeo (Bazil Donovan), and Feist, who duets on “Don’t Make Me Wait.” There are more than a few stylistic similarities to Toronto’s suddenly quite popular Bahamas—with whom Paisley is currently touring—but while that band’s Afie Jurvanen is known just as much for his guitar playing as his songwriting, with Paisley it is all about the song.

Any one of the nine tracks heard here sound like a long-lost, dusty ’70s classic best suited for a Sunday morning hangover. Doug Paisley will not be a secret for much longer; this is easily one of the best singer/songwriter albums of the last year. (Nov. 25)

Download: "Always Say Goodbye," "No One But You," "Come Here My Love"

Steven Page – Page One (Warner)

If you wanted to, you could try and analyze Steven Page’s first proper solo album for insight into the tumultuous past few years of his life, which include a divorce, a drug bust, and leaving one of the most successful Canadian bands of the last 20 years (who released an album without him earlier this year).

But why would you? Page has always specialized in writing in a specific voice; many of his best songs have always been self-contained narratives and neurotic character portraits, and this album is no different. Playing guessing games with the lyrics is far less enjoyable than sitting back and appreciating a well-crafted pop album, which has only ever been Page’s aim since the early days of the Barenaked Ladies.

Now that he’s not performing under a name that most adults were embarrassed to pronounce out loud, Page hasn’t suddenly gone serious: instead, he seems ready to try anything, from big band (“Leave Hear Alone”) to Eurodisco (“Queen of America”) to string quartets (“All the Young Monogamists”) to Burt Bacharach-style sweet pop (“Clifton Springs”) to ambitiously big ballads (“The Chorus Girl”) to songs that could easily have been Barenaked Ladies songs (“Indecision,” “She’s Trying to Save Me”). Oddly enough, the only time he ever sounds derivative is on “Over Joy,” a song that sounds specifically like an outtake from Blue Rodeo’s Casino album—albeit a good one.

Throughout, Page sounds reinvigorated and ready for the next phase of his career—which, based on Page One, is unlikely to be overshadowed by earlier successes. (Nov. 4)

Download: “Over Joy,” “The Chorus Girl,” “All the Young Monogamists”

Rihanna – Loud (Universal)

On one of the vocal powerhouse showcases here, Rihanna tells her lover: “Everything with you is complicated / you’re not easy to love.”

You don’t say. The tough young Barbadian with big pop hooks who blew up large on 2007’s Good Girl Gone Bad returned with a limp pop album, 2009’s Rated R, that diluted her strengths and failed to produce even a couple of memorable songs. Loud is not only a return to form—full of catchy pop melodies that should keep its singles on the charts for another year—but it’s a more musically mature record that finds the often robotic singer letting loose a bit; on tracks like “Complicated” and lead single “Only Girl in the World,” she goes for the gusto and pulls it off.

Lyrically, however, this good girl is still trying to prove how bad she is, and that’s where Loud runs into trouble. Lead-off track “SAndM” is about exactly what you think it is, its chorus using a joke that only schoolchildren find racy: “Sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me.” It’s set to one of the one of the more gripping club beats here, and wouldn’t be out of place on a Peaches album. But after the 2009 tabloid frenzy that made Rihanna one of the most visible victims of domestic abuse—at the hand of her then-boyfriend Chris Brown—it’s more than a bit disconcerting to hear her singing about masochism.

Mind you, that’s child’s play compared to her straight-up domestic-abuse duet with Eminim, “I Love the Way You Lie”; his version was already a hit this summer; here, she presents it more as a straight-up song without any annoying intrusion from—oh wait, there he is at the end. If the S&M of the opening track is playful, “I Love the Way You Lie” is downright disturbing, and not just because of Eminem’s detailed description of a mutually abusive relationship, but—again—hearing current pop music’s most high-profile battery victim sing: “Just going to stand there and watch me burn? / That’s all right because I like the way it hurts.” Granted, she also sings about her own murderous revenge on the dancehall-tinged “Man Down,” so maybe all is fair in love and war and pop art. But it’s sure going to be hard to explain all these complicated gender politics to all the pre-teens who love Rihanna. (Nov. 18)

Download: "SAndM," "Complicated," "Only Girl in the World"

John K. Samson – Provincial Road 222 / City Route 85 (Anti)

The first time I heard “Stop Error,” a song from John K. Samson’s Provincial Road 222 EP, I though the Weakerthans’ singer/songwriter had gone batshit crazy. The pop punk songwriter, whose voice can best be described as nasal, leads an all-choral arrangements of a madrigal that begins with the lyrics: “My monitor is broken” and goes on to speak of HTML tags, the theme music of Call of Duty 4 and assorted technological breakdowns. But once expectations had been shattered, “Stop Error” actually turns out to be brilliant—not because of the lovely choral arrangements, but in the way Samson’s befuddled narrator starts to see the patterns of flawed logic of his broken computer in the workings of the world around him.

Samson’s songwriting has always sounded worlds away from other bands who happen to sound like the Weakerthans; therefore, it’s not surprising that freed from any musical constraints, his songwriting is just as effective, affecting and poignant. Anything goes on Provincial Road 222; on the earlier EP City Route 85 (released last fall) Samson travels the more conventional solo singer/songwriter route. Both are part of a series he says will explore “the atmospheric streets and highways surrounding Winnipeg.” And if you missed Samson touring as part of the Correction Line Ensemble, with his wife Christine Fellows and four classical musicians, reliable rumour has it that it was quite a treat and a whole other beast altogether. (Nov. 11)

Download: “Stop Error,” “The Last And,” “Heart of the Continent”

Kanye West – My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (Universal)

Kanye West could be heard apologizing for past behaviour recently, making amends with Taylor Swift and admitting that he’s been a bit of a jerk. So now we should see a kinder, gentler Kanye West, yes? Not really. In one of the more (unintentionally?) hilarious boasts heard here, West retorts: “I don’t need your pussy, bitch, I’m on my own dick.” Whatever—he’s certainly crawled up his own ass.

My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, is, as expected, remarkably indulgent, juvenile, and, well, boring. There are certainly no pop songs on the level of “Gold Digger” or “Stronger”; the most arresting tracks—“Power” and “Monster”—here are too profane for pop radio and have too many cameos to make them great Kanye West singles. And for every moment of musical brilliance, there’s a song like “Runaway,” a nine-minute epic that ends with an interminable guitar solo—which is actually West’s (or someone’s) voice run through a distortion pedal (and likely AutoTune as well).

Lyrically, West spends his sex-obsessed time drunk driving, getting slapped with restraining orders, and fantasizing about porn stars, eventually suggesting: “Let’s have a toast for the douchebags, let’s have a toast for the assholes.”

Maybe it’s too easy to take literally; maybe it’s all a massive orgy of self-parody. But who cares? The only lasting impression comes from the chorus of “So Appalled,” where West and Jay-Z point out: “You know this shit is fucking ridiculous.” But if it is, then what’s up with the gratuitous gravitas of the Gil Scott-Heron sample that closes the album, on a 90-second snippet called “Who Will Survive in America?” (Answer: the narcissists, apparently.)

Why anyone—least of all Taylor Swift or a former president of the United States—cares about Kanye West’s opinion on anything is mystifying. The man used to be a fantastic producer; now he is only so merely occasionally. He also used to be funny; now he sounds consistently mean and bitter. Every time he steps to a microphone, on stage or off stage, the man is increasingly embarrassing, a victim of his own hubris. And yet, we only seem to be rewarding him even more—look, I just wasted 400 words on the asshole. (Nov. 25)

Download: “Power,” “All of the Lights,” “Monster”

March '10 reviews

The following reviews ran in the Kitchener-Waterloo Record and Guelph Mercury in March.

Beach House – Teen Dream (Sub Pop)
Besnard Lakes – Are the Roaring Night (Outside)
jj – No. 3 (Jagjaguwar)

Dream states know no borders, and in another plane of consciousness, these three acts could well be neighbours, instead of solitary silos residing in Baltimore, Montreal and Gothenburg, Sweden, respectively. The Besnard Lakes try to aim for transcendence through swirling layers of guitars; jj eschew guitars almost entirely; Beach House use whatever combination gets them to their hazy destination the quickest.

“Quick” is not a word associated with anything Beach House has ever done. But for this, their first album for a larger indie label and consequently their first conscious bid for a larger audience, they’ve stepped out of the somnambulant shadows and into the sunlight. In doing so, they sound suspiciously like their new Sub Pop peers Fleet Foxes, Low and Band of Horses—and yet even though you’ve heard this sound plenty in recent years, Teen Dream captures it beautifully with a Brian Wilson touch that utilizes vocal harmony textures and elevates lo-fi innovation to illusions of high-tech gloss.

It also underscores how apt their band name is: every cymbal here sounds like a crashing wave, and there’s a woozy, almost seasick element in the way the guitars and organs bend in and out of tune on a track like “Norway.” It all adds up to a lovely spring thaw album.

The Besnard Lakes also make dreamy, languid music—though they like to do so with their amps cranked to punishing levels. Soaring harmonies, big guitar riffs and a lurching rhythm section are obviously reaching for a Big Statement—and occasionally they succeed, at least more than they have on earlier albums; Roaring Night is easily their catchiest, most accessible work to date, made with the help of their equally epic Montreal neighbours in Stars and the Dears.

And yet much of it sounds stuck in a similar groove, one where everyone in the band chugs along on plodding eighth-note rhythms that stubbornly refuse to build any tension: everything, no matter how lovely, just sits there, waiting for something to happen. When it breaks out of the lethargy—as on the appropriately titled “And This is What We Call Progress”—the Besnard Lakes finally begin to roar. There are delicate moments as well—like “Chicago Train” with its shades of Sigur Ros, but that’s when Jace Lacek’s falsetto stretches toward the ridiculous rather than the rapturous.

Swedish duo jj are as light as the Besnard Lakes are heavy; there are many moments here where pillowy synths and featherweight vocals veer too close to new age pop, or where the lead female vocalist sounds like she’s taken her own metaphor seriously: “Take me away like I’ve overdosed on heroin.”

The ESL lyrics are by far the biggest distraction on this otherwise perfectly pleasant new wave desert island fantasy; thankfully, that’s not true on the powerful, sombre opening track “My Life,” where the narrator is a survivor—not of her own struggles, but of the death that surrounds her. Maybe it’s drugs, maybe it’s a plague, maybe it’s a natural disaster—whatever it is, she’s still standing, alone, and bewildered by her fortune, if in fact surviving is good fortune at all. No wonder the rest of the album sounds like twee escapism; there’s a serious sadness at the core of every song here, no matter how sweet it may sound. (K-W Record, March 25)

For Beach House, download (iTunes, amazon.com): “Zebra,” “Norway,” “Lover of Mine”

For Besnard Lakes, download (iTunes, eMusic, amazon.com): “Like the Ocean Like the Innocent Pt. 2,” “And This is What We Call Progress,” “Albatross”

For jj, download (iTunes, eMusic): “My Life,” “Let Go,” “Into the Light”

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Jully Black – The Black Book (Universal)

Canada’s ballsy, brash soul diva is back bursting with inspiration—or at least inspirational slogans, which are peppered throughout the CD booklet (i.e. “What you project is what you’ll reflect”). That confidence bursts through every track here, where Black once again proves her mettle: part Tina Turner, part Mary J. Blige, and ready to straddle the worlds of pop, rock and R&B by putting her own stamp on each. When she promises “I’ll Rock It,” she certainly does, with heavy ’80s electric guitar riffs that recall vintage Michael Jackson; on “Recalculate,” she takes aim at the Killers’ anthemic rock territory. There are times when her motivational-speaker tendencies get distracting (“The Time of Your Life,” “Glass Ceiling”), but perhaps we shouldn’t expect anything less from such a larger-than-life personality. (K-W Record, March 4)

Download (iTunes, puretracks.com, amazon.com): “Running,” “Share My World,” “She’s Out There”

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Johnny Cash – American VI: Ain’t No Grave (Universal)

Johnny Cash has been dead for seven years now. What we thought was the final installment of his pivotal American Recordings series came out four years ago. Here, of course, we hear him teamed up once again—at this point, one would hesitate to say for the last time—with producer Rick Rubin and a small cast of sympathetic players. The first words we hear him sing are “there ain’t no grave can hold my body down.”

Even the biggest Johnny Cash fan has to ask themselves: dear God, isn’t this enough already? Haven’t we been put through the emotional ringer over the past 15 years listening to Cash sing songs of mortality with what has sounded like his final breaths, to only now be subjected to him haunting us from the grave?

Yes, of course. And you’ll be forgiven if you abstain from this Cash-in. Yet Ain’t No Grave is actually one of the strongest albums of the series, primarily because of the consistency of its vision. The other albums were too often buoyed by covers of either seemingly incongruous songwriters (Trent Reznor, Depeche Mode) or tired and hokey chestnuts from both the country and pop worlds (“Danny Boy,” “Bridge Over Trouble Water”); comparatively, this one plays it straight.

Ain’t No Grave was recorded in the few months before his own passing and after the death of his beloved wife, June Carter, who pulled him out of addiction and gave him a reason to live for the last 40 years of his life.

And so there’s no room for fooling around or gimmicky stunts: the song choice is impeccable, even if it is ridden with clichés about how “I know it’s over/ but life goes on/ and this whole world will keep on turning.” Though the man was dying and his voice is weary, there isn’t a hit of resignation anywhere in these 10 songs and half-hour of music.

Johnny Cash has been gone long enough that we don’t feel obligated to champion each final album as a summation of his legacy; and God knows (even if Rick Rubin doesn’t) that there was more than a few filler tracks on those final albums. That makes Ain’t No Grave all the more powerful: what could easily (and literally) have been squeezing the last breaths out of a dead man is instead a fitting epitaph that stands alone, independent of its backstory. Johnny Cash died more than a legend; he was still an artist until the end. (K-W Record, March 4)

Download (iTunes, amazon.com, puretracks.com): “Can’t Help But Wonder Where I’m Bound,” “Cool Water,” “I Don’t Hurt Anymore”

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Jason Collett – Rat a Tat Tat (Arts and Crafts)
Zeus – Say Us (Arts and Crafts)

It didn’t take long for the students to overtake the master—if in fact any such role-playing ever existed in the relationship between veteran Toronto songwriter Jason Collett and his young backing band, Zeus. They recorded Collett’s fourth album together, the primary strength of which is the arrangements and performances. And on their debut album, Zeus boldly announce themselves as classic rockers of the highest order, seasoned songwriters and players who exude enthusiasm for their favourite artists of decades past, audaciously managing to scale many of the same heights themselves.

Neither act would ever be accused of doing anything original; both are decidedly comfort food. Yet oddly enough, it’s Collett who reaches for lyrical clichés and musical metaphors that are usually the crutch of wide-eyed rookies; Zeus’s lyrics are inconsequential, but never distracting—their music does all the talking. Such are the band’s strengths that they overshadow Collett on his own record; even though the songs are a step up from his somewhat disappointing 2008 album Here’s to Being Here, he’s still adopting an affected drawl that’s ultimately distracting from his other charms as a performer.

Say Us, on the other hand, oozes charm—as well as almost every classic rock signifier imaginable: harmonized guitar leads, reggae drops, honky-tonk pianos, full-throated four-part harmonies, over-driven organs, sugary sweet pop songs and raging rockers. Three songwriters help ensure there’s no monotony from track to track, or even within each track itself; it’s obvious that their performing and production work outside Zeus itself has made them acute listeners and keen observers of minute detail. Say Us sounds like every one of your favourite records made between 1967 and 1977, without ever sounding like any one in particular—the one exception being the closing guitar solo on “At the Risk of Repeating,” which is far too close to The Band’s “It Makes No Difference.”

Zeus will be performing with and without Jason Collett (along with peers Bahamas) on tour across North America this month. (K-W Record, March 11)

For Jason Collett, download (iTunes, eMusic, zunior.com, puretracks.com, amazon.com): “Lake Superior,” “Love is a Chain,” “Rave On Sad Songs”

For Zeus, download (iTunes, eMusic, zunior.com, puretracks.com, amazon.com): “How Does it Feel,” “The Renegade,” “I Know”

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Four Tet – There is Love in You (Domino)
Pantha du Prince – Black Noise (Rough Trade)

There’s a track on the new Four Tet album called “Circling,” and unfortunately that’s all that Kieran Hebden seems to be doing on every track here: adrift and hesitant to lay anchor.

Admittedly, a degree of repetition is to be expected from an electronic music artist who is clearly moving toward techno forms, no matter how abstract. Except that Four Tet’s discography has always set itself apart from his peers who are content to let the beats do all the work, with any additional textures mere window dressing. Hebden, on the other hand, drew heavily on jazzy beats, found sounds, sampled folk instrumentation and delicate sonic layering that was at once experimental yet entrancing and welcoming. So while there are elements of Four Tet’s finest work here, Hebden mostly manages to sound like he’s stuck in a locked groove, his once eclectic pallet somewhat stifled.

That’s not the case for German electronic artist Pantha du Prince, aka Hendrick Weber, who definitely owes a debt to Four Tet for taking exotic acoustic sounds and rendering them unrecognizable while setting them to a chilled-out beat. Pantha du Prince comes from more of a German minimalist techno bent than Four Tet’s downtempo funk, but either way there is much breadth to be discovered on this, his third album.

Titled Black Noise, there’s nothing particularly dark nor noisy about it; Weber works with vivid colours conjured from electric guitars, subtle synth sounds, gamelans and bells that coalesce in an evocative, cinematic landscape—even on the tracks that are more obviously designed for a dance floor. The one time he stumbles is when Noah Lennox of Animal Collective shows up to sing on “Stick to My Side”; in the middle of an exotic sound world devoid of signposts, Lennox is incongruously conventional and utterly disposable—which can’t be said about any other aspect of Black Noise. (K-W Record, March 11)

For Four Tet, download (iTunes, eMusic, amazon.com): “Sing,” “Plastic People,” “She Just Likes to Fight”

For Pantha du Prince, download (iTunes, eMusic, amazon.com): “Bohemian Forest,” “Im Bann,” “Satellite Snyper”

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Gigi – Maintenant (Tomlab/Sonic Unyon)
Fanshaw – Dark Eyes (Mint)
Abramson Singers – s/t (White Whale)

Gigi, Fanshaw and the Abramson Singers all make Sunday morning hangover music—which couldn’t be timelier, now that the world’s eyes have turned away from their shared hometown of Vancouver after two weeks of non-stop partying. Life goes on with small everyday pleasures—like each of these low-key debut albums, each of which rallies Vancouver artists together to sing in perfect harmony.

Gigi is not a band as much as it is a studio project, one steered by producer Colin Stewart (Black Mountain, Veda Hille) after he acquired some plate reverb units that inspired him to make ’60s-style Phil Spector-ish recordings, featuring group harmonies and large bands playing live in the studio. He enlisted songwriter Nick Krgovich (P:ano, No Kids) to pen the songs, and various guest singers to both take lead turns and join the choir.

As a genre experiment and period piece, the songs are successfully charming, and even at their saddest, there’s still sunshine thanks to the ebullience of the performances. The lead vocals tend toward the fey, but everyone else in the room gives it their all. The arrangements are rich, and there’s a clearly audible difference in hearing the band play live; the room ambience is extremely effective and the reverb plates are put to good use; Stewart ensured he got his money’s worth. Fans of vintage pop revivalists like Jens Lekman and Camera Obscura—or even Amy Winehouse—will be tickled pink; there are also perhaps-not-unintended parallels to the Langley Schools Music Project, the ’70s recording of a Vancouver-area children’s choir singing the pop songs of the day, which became a cult favourite several years back.

Vancouver seems to love choirs; Olivia Fetherstonhaugh is part of an indie collective called the Choir Practice, and records solo under the name Fanshaw, which is a more solitary, insular project. There are times when she sounds dark and gothic like her Vancouver neighbours Lightning Dust; at others she recalls PJ Harvey’s more spooky and sublime moments; sometimes she crafts drowsy, languorous country music; other tracks are dead ringers for U.K. newcomer Bat for Lashes. Fetherstonhaugh has a compelling voice that could work in just about any setting, but it’s her haunting songwriting that make Dark Eyes much more than just a promising debut.

Leah Abramson decided to start a female choir after developing tendonitis and being unable to play guitar, and though her eponymous band does feature sparse and almost ghostly instrumentation, the angelic four-to-eight-part harmonies are front and centre. This is definitely a 3-a.m. album, rich with shadows and suggestion. Its all-too-brief running time, at less than half an hour, is hardly enough to sustain us until daybreak; hopefully this visitation from the Abramson Singers is more than a fleeting dream. (K-W Record, March 4)

For Gigi, download (iTunes, eMusic, amazon.com): “Alone at the Pier,” “Won’t Someone Tell Me,” “Strolling Past the Old Graveyard”

For Fanshaw, download (iTunes): “Nobody,” “Strong Hips,” “Diana”

For Abramson Singers, download (zunior.com, iTunes, eMusic, amazon.com): “Take a Camera,” “Fool’s Gold,” “Trucker’s Prayer”

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Bassekou Kouyate & Ngoni Ba – I Speak Fula (Next Ambiance/Sub Pop)

Music from Mali has been one of the biggest African cultural exports of late, led by the hotshot guitarists in Tinariwen and Amadou Bagayoko (of Amadou and Mariam); both owe a large debt to the late Ali Farka Toure, who just released the last album recorded before his death.

Bassekou Kouyate doesn’t play guitar; he plays a hand-held lute called the ngoni, which he attacks with the virtuosity of any great guitar god, not necessarily with the delicacy associated with the ngoni’s closest cousin, the kora. Unlike most ngoni players, Kouyate plays it standing up and even occasionally through effects like a wah-pedal; he’s also designed different models for members of his group, resulting in a new string band set-up that contributes to his original sound.

Kouyate is a relentless noodler, and yet paradoxically the music is never unnecessarily busy or frenetic—even though his tempos are quicker than most of the languorous Mali music we’ve heard. Percussion is minimal but effective; the group’s harmony vocals are lovely. Guests like Vieux Farka Toure (son of Ali) and kora master Toumani Diabate are on board mainly for marquee value; Kouyate is the undisputed star of this show. (K-W Record, March 18)

Download (iTunes, amazon.com): “Musow (For Our Women),” “Torin Torin,” “Ladon”

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Mumford and Sons – Sigh No More (Universal)
Schomberg Fair – Gospel (Hi-Hat)

The U.K. is witnessing something it hasn’t seen in at least 40 years: a group of good-looking young men playing all-acoustic instruments at foot-stomping speed and singing with sunny four-part harmonies, all of which has mysteriously attracted many screaming young women (including on these shores, even before the debut album was released here). This, of course, has led Mumford and Songs to be called “the bluegrass Beatles” by the hyperbole-hungry British press.

Here in Canada, the sounds of Mumford and Sons’ debut album, Sigh No More, are far less impressive. We have Great Big Sea on our pop charts; we have Elliott Brood tearing up nightclub stages across the country. What’s the big deal? Mumford and Sons do, to their credit, write catchy songs—some of which could be very traditional, some of which aspire to rock epics without really having the weight behind them. And when they try to delve into darker material, as on “Dust Bowl Dance,” they simply sound lost.

Much more exciting is young Toronto band Schomberg Fair, who, it’s very safe to say, could kick the asses of Mumford and Sons. The opening track on Gospel, their second album, is a slow ominous build of banjos and tumbling percussion, a small breather before the next four tracks burst forth at breakneck speed.

If you thought the Sadies were shitkickers, Schomberg Fair delivers double the intensity, without getting cartoonish or losing sight of solid songs and performances that would be as powerful even at half their current tempos. Schomberg Fair do for electric Canadian folk music what the Pogues did to Celtic music in the ’80s: write booze-soaked songs plumbing spiritual angst and delivered soulfully with more energy than punk bands who use electric guitars as a cheap crutch.

They’re more than a one-trick pony, too. The album stops cold in the middle for a curiosity called “Motown Break,” which could be a Beastie Boys’ b-side. And from there, both lead vocalist Matt Bahen and the sub-baritone growl of bassist Nathan Sidon deliver emotional performances on slower but equally intense tracks like “Strange Kind of Grace” and “Satan Your Kingdom Must Come Down.”

Playing punk arrangements with folk instruments is old hat by now, a schtick that’s far too easy to succumb to cliché. And yet when Schomberg Fair preach their Gospel, you’ll be a believer in no time. (K-W Record, March 18)

For Mumford and Sons, download (iTunes, eMusic): “Little Lion Man,” “The Cave,” “Roll Away Your Stone”

For Schomberg Fair, download (iTunes, zunior.com): “Drunkard’s Prayer,” “Pretty Bird,” “Wayfaring Stranger”

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Shearwater – The Golden Archipelago (Matador)
Dead Letter Chorus – The August Magnificent (Bumstead)

Last month, Peter Gabriel came crawling out of semi-retirement, only to underwhelm his fans with an all-covers album set to mostly solo piano accompaniment. But what if someone had kidnapped the legendary innovator from his comfortable British home, stranded him in the middle of Texas, and told him to write a concept album about threatened civilizations on remote island communities around the world? It still probably wouldn’t sound as glorious as The Golden Archipelago by Shearwater, a band that’s hitting its stride.

This Austin band has always created delicate epics worthy of early Gabriel or rainy-day favourites Talk Talk (or, at times, Elton John’s now-long-forgotten prog rock moments of the ’70s), with the confident, clear voice of Jonathan Meiburg leading a sympathetic backing band that would be as comfortable playing a Steve Reich composition as they would accompanying an adventurous singer/songwriter. Though they’ve always been a formidable live act, this is the first time they’ve fully gelled in the studio, reining in the bombast and spinning a beginning-to-end masterpiece. And to exemplify their economy, they do so in 11 songs and less than 40 minutes, making a journey to The Golden Archipelago much less daunting yet entirely immersive.

Shearwater play Lee’s Palace in Toronto with the equally excellent Wye Oak on April 1.

Dead Letter Chorus also aim for the epic, although with shared male-female lead vocals. If you took British art rock, dragged it through Chicago’s alt-country scene, and eventually wound up half a world away in Australia, you’d have Dead Letter Chorus. Opening track “The Peaceful Sleep of Death” sounds suspiciously like The Tragically Hip’s “Nautical Disaster,” which is surely unintentional. Sadly, the same can’t be said for the ’50s-style waltz “The Long Goodnight,” where the chorus is shamelessly stolen (uncredited) directly from Dolly Parton’s “I Will Always Love You”—the lyrics are “I will hold on to you.” Outside of their obvious influences, Dead Letter Chorus is a promising band in their own right. (K-W Record, March 25)

For Shearwater, download (iTunes, eMusic, amazon.com): “Black Eyes,” “Corridors,” “Landscape at Speed”

For Dead Letter Chorus, download (iTunes, eMusic): “The Peaceful Sleep of Death,” “Fight the Morning,” “11th Dream About Aeroplanes”