EP Review: Lights & Motion – Bloom

Lights & Motion began in the dark recesses and buried corners of insomnia. Without much sun to speak of in the Scandinavian winters of Sweden, Christoffer Franzen took to sequestering himself in a studio to help battle his condition. I’ve suffered from small bouts of insomnolence as well in my life. It is difficult to find a more lonely and helpless feeling. Thankfully, Christoffer was in great company. Through his project, which began in 2012, Lights & Motion has at once been an escape and a release not only for him but for those lucky enough to listen to his music. Franzen has an incredible capacity to write truly inspiriting and somber music. The most incredible part is that it seems to come so easily for him. It may sound like I’m gushing here but with this latest five song EP, entitled Bloom, Lights & Motion is marking its second release and Franzen’s third in just a little over a year. In January of this year Lights & Motion released the spiritual Dear Avalanche while in October he wrote the score for an imaginary movie called Phenomenon under his own name.

I’ve written in length on the influence one’s surroundings have on creativity. Being able to stand at the edges of town with your arms spread out wide and your head tilted back as you gaze at a million points of burning light twinkling in an endless expanse has to play some role in your creative process. The mind behind Lights & Motion admits that the surrounding panorama and dark winters have had a strong influence on everything he’s done…even if he didn’t know it at the time. The seemingly eternal winter brings with it an urge to create. Through this creation it’s as if Lights & Motion set out to will the changing of seasons.

With Bloom, Lights & Motion comes out of hibernation with hopeful eyes ever set on the promise of Spring’s clement touch. It’s about rejuvenation and being born again. It’s about bursting from the sodden, stark loam of winter to blossom anew. I can’t help but think the song Lion wasn’t so named because of the old adage that ‘spring comes in like a lion’. You can hear a sort of revival present in each of the album’s five songs. Light, airy strings swirl around like a soft, vernal breeze accompanied always by glimmering piano or guitar that tiptoe through the songs as if through a puddle after a spring rain. With each lullaby on Bloom you can almost hear the sleepy staccato of rain dreamily pitter-pattering the tin roof of the shed in your backyard. Franzen states that Bloom, like a lot of his music, was written during the darkest months when he’s longing for the changing of seasons. This longing is the catalyst that enables him to write music with a lighter feel, even while the sky outside is a never-ending blanket of grey. Bloom encapsulate perfectly that longing. Or as Franzen puts it ‘a hopeful melancholy’.

My only gripe with this album is that I want more. From the opening piano chord of the first track ‘Overture’ to the final chord of the last track ‘Lion’, Lights & Motion has created something here that truly transcends sensibility. Many of the tracks are full of lilting phrases that get your heart pumping new, enlivened blood, but there are moments when the weather changes. Lights & Motion won’t flip the script on you with the kind of abrupt crescendo we all know and love/hate with instrumental music. Instead, the tonal aura changes. Franzen relates that the piano and string textures ‘sound very blue-ish in color and tone’ on his newest mini album. This blue-ish tone portrays the quiet battle between a ceaseless winter and the ushering in of the new blessedness of promise.

Lights & Motion is nothing if not consistent. Every release is consistently beautiful. Consistently gut-wrenching. Consistently full of melancholic hopefulness. Franzen just gets it. On the micro-level he’s growing as an artist by experimenting with sounds and textures. You have to admire how unfailing his creativity is with release after release. The guy is pumping out music at an alarming pace and there are no signs of any kind of artistic lull. It’s difficult enough to try and be consistently creative with short gaps between albums, but Lights & Motion finds a way to do it with a faithfulness to his artistic conviction that I adore. At this point, my only advice to Lights & Motion is that if the landscapes of Sweden have as much influence over your writing as you claim – never move.”

Lights & Motion links:

Website: http://www.lightsandmotion.com/

Bandcamp: http://www.deepelm.com/lightsandmotion/

Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/lightsandmotion

Twitter: https://twitter.com/lightsandmotion

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lightsandmotion/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lightsandmotion/

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/user/LightsandMotion

Live Review and Photos: Rosetta at Valhalla, Wellington

Rosetta

w/ Spook The Horses

Valhalla, Wellington

Tuesday 12 December 2017

Recently, when browsing through my emails, I opened the newsletter from German label Pelagic Records. Imagine my surprise when I saw that they’d signed Wellington act Spook The Horses! Win for local music!

Now to be honest, I’m never been a big Spook The Horses fan. I cam appreciate what they do, but the heavy roaring often put me off. But their set tonight has completely made me reconsider. They are incredible!

They had some screens free-standing on stage, with a projector shining images onto the screens. The new music sounded mellow and sparse, with pleasant singing in place of roaring. In my head I started to compare their new sound to the likes of Blueneck and softer Opeth.

The band slowly started in increase the intensity, finishing the set with some of their older material. It was an interesting evolution, from ephemeral music with nice singing, to heavy post-metal with roaring. And because the transition seemed so gradual, I not only warmed to the roaring, but really got into it. Tell you what, I was thoroughly impressed! The drums sounded especially thunderous, so props to the sound guy.

Rosetta have recently come off a month-long US tour. I recently came back from touring across a America with a band as well, so I can understand the immense scale of where they went. Philadelphia is on the east coast, a few hours drive south from New York City. Their tour was mostly in the west coast region. That’s a long way from home.

And now they’re in New Zealand, which is almost as far as they can get from home. Speaking to Mike (vocals) before the show, he told me how the response in Asia and Australia on this current tour has been unbelievable. By the sounds of things, it feels more rewarding playing in foreign countries because people make the effort to see bands that don’t have the opportunity to play those places as often.

Clearly all that touring has helped them mesh as a band, because they are one helluva unit! Seriously tight, and delivering blow after blow of intensity. Rosetta’s latest album, Utopioid, is a dynamic exploration of musical textures and timbre. Tonight they brought those textures to life, pummeling us with searing riffs and busy beats.

Mike was a brilliant front man. Funnily enough, most of the bands I’ve seen in recent months haven’t had singers, and the ones that do usually have the singers playing guitar. It felt special to see a vocalist freed up to move around without an instrument to restrict him.

One of the most vital aspects of putting on a show is energy. It’s the difference between listening to an album and home, or seeing the band play it live. Seeing guitarists throw themselves around and flick their hair about, seeing drummers beat their kit into submission, seeing singers draw us in to sing along – that’s what it’s all about. And you can see from my photos, Rosetta brought their music to life. You could feel the energy.

Admittedly, I’d been apprehensive about a Tuesday night show. I’ve been worn-out recently, and I knew a late night wouldn’t do my body any favours.

As it turns out, the opposite is true. Not only did I have a fantastic time watching two brilliant bands, but I feel revitalised. There is something to be said for exposing yourself to things that inspire you. I just want to sit down at my drum set and smash something out, to create something new and exciting.

Rosetta made a point of touring extensively after writing their most recent album. This is their first time in New Zealand. And I’m grateful that they came this far, because it has been rewarding for everyone involved.

Words and photos by Joseph James

Album Review: Shipwrecks – Self Titled

German post-rockers Shipwrecks released their eponymous three track EP back in 2015. I don’t remember how I stumbled upon it, but it was good enough to impress.

Without wanting to sound too much like a jaded old critic, let’s just say that it is becoming harder to find bands that truly stand out and excite within the post-rock genre. Shipwrecks managed to do so with just three songs.

Those three songs did them proud, earning them support slots touring Europe with Immanu El and Explosions In The Sky.

Two years later, they’ve followed up with a début album – also self titled.

Recording Shipwrecks is a romantic tale of a band locking themselves away in a remote cabin to write and rehearse. They’re a band that sticks to a DIY ethos to do as much as they could in-house. The guitarist oversaw recording and producing. David Caspar, the drummer collected earthy mixed media to make the striking album art. The band used old vintage equipment to capture those warm, rich tones. It almost sounds like a wholesome movie montage.

Not afraid to take their time, the band craft their build-ups. Because, as is the case with most post-rock, this is about long songs full of crescendos.

I find it difficult picking a stand-out track. All of them offer similar things, each with their own little nuances. Long, deliberate, and full of hope. Except the song “Maelstrom”, which feels more ominous than the rest of the tracks. It sounds like you’d expect from something with that name. Listen carefully and you’ll hear murky depths, with something deep underwater bubbling away.

I love the drumming on this album. Regular readers will know that I often focus on the drumming because I am a drummer myself. And this is my style of playing: hard hitting. Not fancy or technical, but packing a punch. Hit with purpose and allow the music space to breathe. There are distinct moments I hear that make me smile, like the when Caspar hits the bright ride bell *ping!* in “Monument”, or playing *dahdahdah DAH* around the kit in “Home”. And of course, he loves to throw in plenty of snare rolls.

As much as I love running a music blog, I find it hard to come up with new ways to describe music. I listen to (and write about) a lot of post-rock and so much of it blurs together. Some quiet picking, rising swells, big crescendo… Which band is this again? And without wanting to unfairly name names, I feel that some of the major players in the scene have released fairly uninspiring and forgettable records in recent years.

Shipwrecks have done well to stand out in a saturated scene. Only two releases in, and they already have a reputation.

Like their name suggests, when you stumble upon Shipwrecks, you’ve found something special. Like a precious sunken treasure, offering knowing references to a rich past. Building upon their influences, Shipwecks offer something familiar, yet not contrived. Nothing groundbreaking – just done well.

Shipwrecks. Image: Mirka Scheuer

Shipwrecks is available via Sportklub Rotter Damm and Maniyax Records.

USA buyers can order through A Thousand Arms

Shipwrecks links:

Website: http://shipwrecks-music.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shipwrecksmusic

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shipwrecksmusic/

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCT02cwVPZTmCavhADv3qOoQ

Bandcamp: http://shipwrecks-music.bandcamp.com/

Joseph James

Album Review: Diary Of My Misanthropy – Leviathan

I’m a sucker for dystopian texts. It all started at high school, when we read Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World for English. For such an old work of literature, it was remarkably accurate at predicting how the world would change. I adopted this genre wholeheartedly, seeking out similar texts like George Orwell’s 1984 and Animal Farm.

In this current era of militant nationalism and the revival of Nazism, I think that the more people are exposed to dystopian allegories, the better. They offer insight into how things will turn out if we refuse to keep our leaders accountable.

Clearly Prague post-metal band Diary Of My Misanthropy agree. Originally a solo project from Vladyslav Tsarenko, Diary Of My Misanthropy is now a full band, who have just released their dystopian-themed third album, Leviathan.

Ngake and Whātaitai the taniwha. Taken from the book The Taniwha of Wellington Harbour, by Moira Wairama. Illustration by Bruce Potter

For a digital-only release, Leviathan sure boasts some beautiful artwork. Images depict the skeleton of a Loch Ness monster-looking beast sitting upon a rocky lakeshore, looking out through the fog to an isolated cottage.

It reminds me of the local Māori myth of Ngake and Whātaitai, two taniwha (sea monsters) who – according to legend – formed the geology of Wellington harbour where I live. Whātaitai, the less adventurous of the two, tried to follow his friend and escape for the lake where he lived, only to become trapped at the mouth of the newly formed harbour, forced to helplessly watch as the land around him evolved.

The rest of the liner notes tell a story. During a dream you meet the beast, and he shows you the world, and how humanity has doomed it. On top of the story, the liner notes also prominently feature two quotes: one from the Black Mirror TV series, and another from Jacque Fresco. I am not familiar with either, so did some research. Both Black Mirror and Fresco ask us to critically examine how we use technology, and ask if we like the humanity is headed.

I’m currently reading Kurt Vonnegut’s first novel, Player Piano. Anyone familiar with Vonnegut will know that he is the master of blending sci-fi with satire, using his wicked wit as easily digestible critique. Player Piano is set in a post-World War America run by super computers and machines. Although the mechanical revolution was first seen as “progress”, the automation of industry left most citizens without work, and thus fulfillment, creating a society sitting on unrest. Without knowing too much about Black Mirror or Jacque Fresco, I can draw marked parallels between their works and Player Piano.

I recently saw a band Staghorn play in St Loius. Like Diary Of My Misanthropy, Staghorn also boasted a post-apocalyptic theme set to post-rock. Staghorn had a spoken word narrative advancing their story as they played. Thinking of this, I assumed that Diary Of My Misanthropy would also have samples featured in their songs. It is a common post-rock convention, after all. Take Lost in Kiev, Platonick Dive and Maybeshewill, for example.

Surprisingly, despite writing a narrative to go with the album, the band doesn’t include them in their songs. We do, however, hear two spoken words quotes. And to be honest, as much as I expected some more spoken word, I think the album could have worked better without any at all. Fresco’s quote in “War Is Peace” hardly stands out in the mix. And the segment on “Black Mirror” – which borrows from the TV show of the same name – is abrasive and serves to interrupt rather than enhance the listening experience. I’m not a complete prude, but the excessive swearing feels gratuitous.

The music is great. Post-metal with influences drawn from doom, industrial, and (dare I say it?) nu-metal. The trio layer their sounds with expertise to create depth and dynamics.

They traverse the spectrum well, from lush textured moments to heavy overdriven segments. Chuggy doom-laden riffs sit next to glitchy electro-beats. Pleasant guitar strumming turns into a monstrous solo as soon as evolving back into padded swells. I can’t fault it.

The mix between high and low-end balance out well. I dislike when “heavy” music focuses too much on bass and distortion.And Diary Of My Misanthropy are heavy, but strike a balance with high-pitched guitar, keys and brighter drum cymbals bringing in treble.

As a drummer, I find the drumming tasteful and interesting – articulate, smart. I like how the keys are played like an actual piano – more organic sounding that the synths that dominate most music these days. Not to say this sounds “natural” – there are plenty of effects playing havoc with tones – but the overall mix sounds crisp. It sounds like people playing instruments with the help of technology, not computers making music with human input.

As was the case in my Masters Of This Land review, I feel that my analyzing of the politics and themes behind this body of work is perhaps overbearing. I’m drawing comparisons to literature and mythology at the expense of critiquing the actual music. However, I wonder: does this signify quality in art? I’m engaging with it at a deeper level, making connections to other works and reading into possible meanings. Great art demands interaction; is evocative, which is the antithesis to passiveness.

Leviathan is excellent. I can endorse the music, artwork and themes. If you feel compelled to check it out, take time to read through the liner notes for the full experience.

Diary Of My Misanthropy links:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DiaryOfMyMisanthropy

Bandcamp: https://diaryofmymisanthropy.bandcamp.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/diaryofmymisanthropy

Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/diary-of-my-misanthropy

Merch: http://diaryofmymisanthropy.bigcartel.com/

Joseph James

Will Not Fade Awesomeness Award 2018 – Adam Page

Adam Page has brought so much joy to my life that I feel the need to coin an award just to express how he makes me feel.

I still remember the first time I saw him. It was at a bar called Lido on Victoria street, which is now under construction. My friend Sam invited me along, and seeing how Sam’s recommendations are always trustworthy, I made a point of coming. It was weird in a way, because there was no charge for admission – just buy something to eat or drink to support the venue.

Adam led the trio. He largely stuck to vocals and saxophone, but also employed other odd instruments like kazoo and shakers and melodica – just to spice up the sound. He kept his band on their toes, turning to the drummer and saying “give me a disco beat at this pace”, clapping to count him in. Ed Zuccollo was on mini moog, closely watching Adam for key changes. Adam would shout out something like “and now for a solo in the key of E!”, putting Ed on the spot and forcing him to improvise.

It was a brilliant example of great musicianship. Unrehearsed, but still incredibly good.

The highlight of the night was when Adam launched into the Lion King theme song, belting out the African lyrics with intense passion. I found it so funny that I almost fell off my chair, tears rolling down my face with laughter. Adam even paused the song to check that I was OK.

Adam played a series of these gigs over the next month of so, always a free mid-afternoon improvised show at local bars and cafes. Always a complete joy to watch.

I remember him opening for comedy-rockers The Beards the first time the came to Wellington. I think they had some history, both coming from Adelaide. Adam had all the vital ingredients anyway: musical talent, a wicked sense of humour, and a beard. Using a looping pedal and a microphone, he played a set of songs that comprised of beat boxing and beard noises.

Beard noises? Well, when he pull on one long hair it made a high-pitched sound. When he brushed a comb through his follicles percussively, it made a beat. It sounds unbelievable, but he pulled it off.

Another show of note was at Puppies or Happy [I can’t remember which name the venue had at the time]. It was a Star Wars themed gig, to tie in with May the Fourth. Everyone in the band was dressed up as a Star Wars character, with Page dressed in a Boba Fett outfit that was far too small for him, giving him a major wedgie. Ah, the sacrifices we make for music!

I remember one individual was dressed in the infamous sexy slave Leia outfit. Said individual was a guy.

It was a fun night, a gathering of nerds and music lovers. The band ran through hits like “Imperial March” and that fun Cantina tune, adding fun twists to the covers.

It was a glorious period when Adam Page lived in Wellington. The name Adam Page was synonymous with fun times, and those times were frequent. He comes back now and again, often for Fringe festival.

Adam plays weird, but good music. He’s known for his improv looping sets. He released an album of Native American flute songs. He also featured on Name UL’s debut EP.

Adam personifies musical talent. You never know what to expect from one of his shows because they’re so spontaneous. He doesn’t stick to genre or convention, he just plays well and has fun. He’s such a gifted goofball. If you get the chance to see Adam Page live, do it! I guarantee you’ll have a great time.

And that is why Adam Page is the recipient of the 2018 Will Not Fade Award for Awesomeness!