Strand of Oaks - Heal

Somehow this is the first Strand of Oaks record I've written about on here, which is surprising (to me) because I've been listening to them for years now. This record feels like an appropriate place to start, but it turns out this wasn't my starting point after all.

In 2018 the Songs: Molina / Memorial Electric Co shows got announced, including a show in London which I instantly bought tickets for. I love Jason Molina's music and was keen to see the songs played live again (I saw Magnolia Electric Co once, but that was the first time I'd heard them). Standing in for Jason was Timothy Showalter, who records under the name Strand of Oaks. At that point in time, I was pretty sure that was how I first heard the name Strand of Oaks. I text my friend Stubbs about the show as he was a big Molina fan too, and he told me that Strand of Oaks had released a beautiful tribute to Jason in the form of the song JM. I tried to find the song online, but struggled and listened to Pope Kildragon instead, which I really enjoyed.

But it turns out that wasn't the beginning, because I eventually noticed that I'd seen Strand of Oaks at Primavera Sound in 2015. They were the first band we saw on the last day of the festival, and I remember my friend's friend encouraging us to get there in good time such that we could see them (well, I remember him encouraging us to get there in time to see a band, and looking at the first band we saw each day it must have been Strand of Oaks). Sadly, for whatever reason, that show wasn't enough to make a lasting impression on me (but we saw a lot of bands that weekend, so the competition was tough).

Some time later I found a bunch of songs on my iPod from the Daytrotter Session Strand of Oaks recorded in 2010. This dates my first discovery of Strand of Oaks even earlier, because I was deeply into listening to and downloading Daytrotter Sessions for a few months in the spring of 2010. There was a short period between me discovering the archive of incredible music there and it becoming a paid service, but in that time I'd been a huge fan, downloading sessions from bands I loved and trying a bunch of new ones. Exactly what caused me to download the Strand of Oaks session I don't know, but it was likely a favourable write-up on the site. The songs he played that day are from Leave Ruin, an album I've never really got into, so maybe that's why they didn’t make a huge impression on me.

So after two failed starts, third time I got lucky and became a big fan of Timothy's music. The first album of his that I bought was this one, a month after the Songs: Molina show. They'd played JM that night and it was lovely. I'm pretty sure I had heard it prior to that, but it really worked well that night. It's the highlight of the album - dark and brooding - but that's not to diminish the other songs - Shut In is an incredible song too - there's something Springsteen-esque to the echo on the vocals and the guitars somehow make the song sound really uplifting. Goshen '97 is a great opener (I love the Smashing Pumpkins reference). Generally though it comes across as quite a dark album - Mirage Year and For Me are even heavier than JM; Plymouth sandwiched between them serves only to minimise the despair. All in all, I have a lot of time for this album, so I'm glad everything finally clicked with Strand of Oaks.

Format: 12", picture sleeve
Tracks: 10
Cost: £15 new
Bought: Norman Records website
When: 26/10/18
Colour: Black
Etching: none
mp3s: Download

Max Richter - The Blue Notebooks

Max Richter is prolific to a fault. In recent years he has been releasing records faster than anybody could possibly keep up with, particularly film scores and soundtracks. I've forced myself to stop buying so many of his records because I don't feel like I've really even spent enough time with some of the ones I bought years ago, let alone any new ones. Not all of them have been money well spent (more on that another time), but I still seem to keep thinking about buying more. But it wasn't always like that. Not all that long ago he released standalone albums that weren't held together by a narrative or very obvious theme; The Blue Notebooks is one such album.

Compared to his more recent, non-soundtrack releases, The Blue Notebooks feels like an anomaly, but it's the lack of over-bearing theme that makes it so enjoyable. The songs play like just songs that happen to have been written at a similar time and in a similar way; it's something you'd think nothing of from a rock or pop album, but when you think about it alongside Sleep or Voices or Woolf Works or Vivaldi Recomposed it feels a world apart. Without the weight of a theme, it feels light, which is saying something for the album that spawned On the Nature of Daylight, a song that would carve a life outside of Max's career. It's an incredible song, and worthy of all the praise it gets (and the presence of two versions on this album, and countless other slight variations and re-recordings). Shadow Journal shouldn't be overlooked though, as it probably does a better job of representing what Max's early output sounded like - minimal, electronic but with a cutting and memorable violin. Organum is lovely and The Trees is the other highlight - more soaring violins and melancholy pianos. The build up breaks before it has a chance to explode in a Godspeed or Mogwai or EITS manner, which reminds me more of Low, a band who've often pushed songs to that same point just before they explode/implode. I'm sure there's a wealth of classical influences that a more learned person would be able to reel off here, but I'll have to stick with my rock references.

I bought this copy one Saturday afternoon in Truck Store, along with the second Talons album (a post-rock band with two violinists, so two albums with more in common than you'd assume on paper). I'd often stroll down there on a Saturday afternoon and around that time they always had a cracking box of records labelled "post-rock / neo-classical / noise" and some of the best (non-Jason Molina) records I bought in that shop came from there. It was my fifth Richter album in four years, having been introduced to him on Infra. This is the 2015 reissue, so ten years after the original release and not long after Max's huge increase in recorded output. But I didn't know all of that, I just thought it was another nice neo-classical record to play. Whilst the vinyl is 180 grams, there's a huge amount of crackling on my copy during the first recording of On the Nature of Daylight, but it's far from the only version I have of that song, so I'm not too worried.

Format: 12"
Tracks: 12
Cost: £21 new
Bought: Truck Store, Oxford
When: 15/08/15
Colour: Black
Etching: none
mp3s: Download

Nine Inch Nails - Quake

Around 2000 or 2001 I bought a Sega Saturn. By this point, it was already considered a failed console, a slight oddity of the generation between the classic cartridge eras and the huge success of the PlayStation and Nintendo 64. A friend who I'd spent a lot of time playing Goldeneye with had discovered drugs and was already selling off all his possessions to buy weed; he asked if I wanted to buy his Sega Saturn and six games for a fairly measly sum - I can't remember how much, but I want to say £30. I wasn't a huge gamer, but enjoyed my N64 enough to think I should try another console. In amongst the games included were Quake, Alien Trilogy, a futuristic racing game that I didn't enjoy as much as F-Zero X, and Loaded, the game that introduced me to Pop Will Eat Itself (who themselves eventually crossed paths with NIN near the end of their career, and at the start of Clint Mansell's incredible film-scoring era. I wonder if he and Trent ever chatted about the Quake soundtrack).

Anyway, I found almost all of the games on the Sega Saturn incredibly hard to play, and Quake was particularly disappointing since the graphics were so basic compared to what I'd grown up used to on Goldeneye (which I'm sure looks beyond shit to anyone playing games now). I'd heard so much about what a landmark game Quake was that I had very high expectations, but couldn't progress in it very far because I was so bad at it, something I attributed to the crappy graphics, but was much more likely related to my skill level. However, I knew that Trent Reznor had done the soundtrack, and I remember hearing these haunted, sparse but sufficiently industrial soundscapes and thinking they were cool. The great thing about Sega Saturn games was that you could put the cd in your cd player, skip the game data on track 1 and play the rest of the soundtrack as an audio cd - that was how I heard Pop Will Eat Itself, and where I first heard all these songs (I honestly was so bad at the game I probably heard at most three of them whilst actually playing the game).

Fast forward 20 years, and I was stood in my kitchen having just got my children to bed when I saw on Twitter (or possibly an email) that NIN were putting out the Quake soundtrack on vinyl as well as reissuing With Teeth (one of my favourite NIN albums), and The Social Network soundtrack (which I didn't buy - I think collecting all the soundtracks that Trent Reznor has done is a rabbit-hole too far). I immediately ordered Quake and With Teeth and they turned up amazingly soon afterwards. They'd done such a great job with the previous reissues, with such attention to detail and care that I was keen for more.

The Quake soundtrack is no exception to this rule. The ten songs are spread across three sides of vinyl and the fourth is etched with some lines of what I think are C++ relating to the songs in the game code (there's a line that looks like a comment starting with // which I think is C++, although I've never dared to try to use that language myself). It's basically impossible to photograph, so you'll just have to believe me on that. There was due to be a nice booklet containing details of the recording like in their other reissues, but I think a legal dispute meant it couldn't be published, although Trent leaked it on the internet as he is known to do. The Quake logo on the sleeve is embossed, although my favourite detail might be the images of the blocky off-white CRT monitor on the inner sleeves. It's funny how something once so prevalent now looks so dated.

It's probably fair to say that about 20 years passed between me hearing the songs on my Sega Saturn cd and getting this vinyl. I would have played them a few times back in the day, but nowhere near as much as I played The Downward Spiral or Broken or The Fragile. I went off to university and the Sega Saturn spent a good few years sat in a cupboard at my parents' house. Eventually I told my brother he could have it, but I have no idea how much he played it. He is a much better gamer than me, so I like to think he heard more of the soundtrack in its natural habitat than I ever did, but I don't know for sure. When the vinyl got released, I asked him to dig out the cd so I could make a copy of the mp3s, something that had never crossed my mind in the years in between. I still don't listen to these songs often, but when I'm in the mood for instrumental Trent Reznor songs, they often fill the void nicely (it's a very heavily populated genre of music, and the pandemic-released Ghosts albums have become my go-to listens).

Often here very little happens, but the mood is set perfectly. I find it hard to think that people could genuinely have found the gameplay scary, since the graphics were what they were, but I guess expectations were lower. However, this music is thoroughly haunting in isolation, so perhaps it was exactly what the game needed. It's funny to think of 1996-era Nine Inch Nails creating this soundtrack having no idea that Trent would go on to become one of Hollywood's biggest film-score composers. It's nice to hear the beginning of that arc, and how established the style already was.

Format: Double 12", picture sleeves, gatefold
Tracks: 10
Cost: £44
Bought: Nine Inch Nails website
When: 19/09/2020
Colour: Black
Etching: lines of code on side D
mp3s: None

Explosions in the Sky - The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place

 

I think we're all totally in agreement by now that this album is perfect. It's not a term I use lightly, but surely this is the time to use it, if ever. Explosions have released a bunch of other great albums - some that sound a bit like this, others that sound a bit further away - and countless other instrumental bands have released albums that sound broadly similar, but none have done so as wonderfully as Explosions did here. Five songs, each fascinating and emotive and majestic; no messing around, no filler. Perfect.

I suspect it wasn't always that way, but somehow nearly two decades have passed and this album has become even more of a gem. I got into the band just after they'd released All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone and had heard that this album was worth seeking out, so bought a cheap cd copy a few months before going to see them at the All Tomorrow's Parties they curated. I loved it from the outset and seeing the songs thrashed out on the main stage in Minehead that spring was amazing. 

I gradually bought their other albums, but ended up waiting until the pandemic hit to upgrade my cd copy for the vinyl. Record Shops had been shut for only a short period at the time (compared to how long this thing would stretch on for), but it'd been a hard time, so I figured I'd buy some records I was after from a few of my favourite shops (that had a reasonable online presence) and fill some holes in my collection (plus, being at home meant I wasn't really spending any money). Resident Records had this one in, so I was pleased to get a copy. I distinctly remember gasping at the stunning etching on side D - the simplicity of it makes it stand out from most other etched records. Every record collection should have a copy of this masterpiece.

Format: double 12", picture sleeves
Tracks: 5
Cost: £18.49 new
Bought: Resident Records website
When: 30/04/20
Colour: Black
Etching: Etching of birds on side D
mp3s: Download card

Various Artists - Tiny Changes: A Celebration of Frightened Rabbit's The Midnight Organ Fight

 

I was gutted when I heard the news of Scott Hutchison's disappearance and subsequent death. I'd drifted away from Frightened Rabbit's music at the time, but The Midnight Organ Fight remained a firm favourite. I'd bought it at the very start of my PhD having read a review in the university newspaper (which dates the time I read it, as I'm pretty sure no one reads the university newspaper beyond their first few weeks), and the line "While I'm alive, I'll make tiny changes to earth" became something of a mantra for the next three-and-a-half years - the only way to motivate yourself through a PhD is remembering that the very minor thing you're studying is entirely new, and the whole purpose is to say something no one has ever said before; there are mathematical theorems that I discovered and they're mine and forever will be - I was the first one to discover those things and those "tiny changes" are mine (and, trust me, they are tiny). It got me through that period of my life.

But I ended up loving The Winter of Mixed Drinks less, and I somehow missed out on Pedestrian Verse entirely. I picked up a copy of Painting of a Panic Attack in 2017 and really found little in it for me. I'd lost track of Scott's side-projects and didn't discover the excellent Mastersystem album until after his death (more on that another time). I vividly remember scrolling through Twitter one morning at work and seeing the final tweet Scott posted and the ensuing panic from friends and family. It was a (thankfully, so far) unique feeling and one I hope not experience again. Whilst I'd never even met Scott, his music on The Midnight Organ Fight had meant so much to me I was really thrown; I felt particularly helpless, wishing there was something I could but almost certainly being hundreds of miles away from anywhere useful. 

As a big Manics fan, my mind soon drifted onto thoughts of Richey Edwards. When I first heard the Manics, Richey had already been missing for years, but seeing the panic and fear in real time from Scott's loved ones made me think about different it must have been in 1995 without the internet. Two days later, there was a sad ending to Scott's story but it felt like longer - in my mind there was a week between the two events, but maybe that's how time feels like it passes in situations like that. I can't begin to imagine what it was like for Richey's friends and family.

Three paragraphs in and I've not even mentioned this record yet. Before Scott's death, this tribute album was in the works - it's status as a classic album was already established. I wasn't aware how well-loved it was by people other than me, and I was pleasantly surprised to find out that it was universally adored. Perhaps "surprised" is the wrong word - there's no reason to be surprised; it's a huge album. I didn't (and still don't) know most of the names of the artists covering the songs here, but Biffy Clyro, The Twilight Sad and Craig Finn were enough to give me an idea and also draw me in. I remember watching a heart-wrenching video of The Twilight Sad covering Keep Yourself Warm at Primavera Sound shortly after Scott's death (although they cover Floating the Forth here, a song I can only imagine was even harder to manage).

When we first moved into this house, my daughter's room was the only one that we'd decorated and spent much time in, so I kept a record player up there with a small handful of records. This one was up there for a long time and I played it a lot with her, particularly while my wife was in hospital after our second was born. It's not the most appropriate record to play in front of a young child, but I'm pretty sure she wasn't listening to the words. As a result, I have bittersweet memories of these versions of the songs - playing Duplo with my two-year-old, but also thinking about the sad end of Scott's life. The memories felt a world apart from my memories of the original album - academia and going to as many gigs as I could manage in London. A critical but very true statement is that these songs aren't as good as the originals - few add anything to the excellent song-writing of the originals (Craig Finn's cover is one of the better ones, and Biffy's take on The Modern Leper is unusual, but comes together in the end). But I love that I had a chance to reconnect with these songs in a thoroughly different phase of my life and create new memories of them.

Format: Double 12", gatefold sleeve, booklet

Tracks: 17

Cost: £25.50 new

Bought: Resident Records website

When: 05/08/19

Colour: Black

Etching: none

mp3s: none

Attack in Black - The First and Second Efforts of a Band That Died Before You Could Kill Them

 

I have a strange relationship with eBay these days. I don't use it much, and when I do it's almost entirely buying Manic Street Preachers or Jason Molina records. But sometimes I just browse it a bit when I'm bored, and type in the names of bands that pop into my mind whose records I might like to buy. I still long to own a copy of Attack in Black's Marriages LP on vinyl (any version will do, and there have been some nice reissues since the original that I didn't buy when we saw them blow us away supporting Far in TJ's), so I mindlessly typed their name into the search bar one evening. Somewhere near the top of the results was this LP which I don't think I was even aware of, and for only £8 (£10.35 with postage). I put in a-slightly-over-starting-bid offer and waited until the clock ran out.

The record is, as the title describes, the first two releases from the band pressed onto one (45rpm) record - their 2005 debut, self-titled EP and the 2006 Widows EP that preceded Marriages. Apparently there are 750 copies in total, and only 200 on yellow, so I was lucky to find a copy at all, let alone for just over a tenner.

I have a copy of the debut EP from a trip I took to Canada in the spring after I'd seen them in Newport (they were touring, but the dates didn't work with our trip around the east of the country, which is a shame). I found a record shop in Toronto called Criminal Records and bought a lot of music, including two Attack in Black LPs and the debut EP on cd (the only format it was released on). Later that same day, I found a copy of Hum's You'd Prefer an Astronaut on cd; it was a good day. When I got back to Cardiff I popped the cd in and was amazed to hear five scrappy hardcore punk songs thrashed out in under 15-minutes. In hindsight, the inclusion of a cover of Depression by Black Flag should have been a clue, but I definitely expected them to be doing it more in the style of the band I knew from Marriages (as it turns out, it is very faithful to the original). I'd already been caught off-guard by their change in sound between Marriages and The Curve of the Earth, so hearing their hardcore beginnings added to a ridiculously fast change in style. We saw and listened to a lot of hardcore bands when I was in Cardiff, and this version of Attack in Black sounded like pretty much every band we were into at the time. But there were hints of the melody they'd eventually find in the choruses.

I'd not heard Widows before getting this record, but was very familiar with the songs Broken Things and The Love Between You and I from my over-playing of Marriages over the years. However, these recordings are different, and different enough to make the arc from the debut EP to Marriages more understandable. Broken Things is one of my favourite songs (in general, not just by the band), and this version is a bit looser, a bit thrasher in places and feels less polished (in a good way). The bare drums and group vocals in the chorus are every bit as perfect as they are on the later version. Something about the guitars in The Love Between You and I have much more in common with the debut than the album version. Similarly, there's a hint to the vocals that's a bit more hardcore, despite the fact that Daniel's signing is actually singing now. The link between the two eras is much clearer on the other two songs, Cut and Run and 1950, which both would have been the least hardcore thing on the debut, but not sounded out of place - the hints of melody almost doing battle with the older style within the songs themselves. It's nice when those linking pieces fall into place and you can see better how a band's sound developed. If I'd heard this before the debut, I wouldn't have been quite so surprised putting that cd into my player back in 2009.

Format: 12", numbered (50/200)

Tracks: 9

Cost: £10.35 new

Bought: eBay

When: 16/01/21

Colour: Transparent yellow

Etching: none

mp3s: none

Pitch Shifter - The 1990 Demo

I probably didn't need to buy the demos of Pitch Shifter's debut album, but here we are. On one hand, the band meant a huge amount to me for a good and important period of time, and despite not being a fan of their earlier industrial stuff when I first heard it I've found I quite enjoy it now I'm older. On the other hand - and I say this as something of a compliment I guess - I'd honestly struggle to tell you whether I was listening to the demos or the album itself, and I already have that album on vinyl and on cd; this LP feels pretty redundant. I was vaguely aware of the band putting the record out via Kickstarter but I didn't go out of my way to buy it, only picking it up a while later when it found it's way into the Record Culture sale section (where I think there is still at least one copy). I can't turn down a good offer.

Of the eight songs on Industrial, six of them have demos here (Gravid Rage and New Flesh are missing), and we instead have Behemoth, an unreleased song from the era, originally called Mouthscape. Musically, the quality of the demos is on a par with the album itself. I wouldn't necessarily call either "good", in fact part of the charm of Industrial was the bleak, imposing wall of sound and lack of frills. Mark's barked vocals might be different, or they might be exactly the same - there are only a few moments when you can really tell what he's saying anyway. I'm sure someone somewhere would have noticed if they'd just pressed six of the exact same versions of these songs in a different order, but I can't help but wonder if this is just some elaborate prank - that maybe they did just put out the exact same mixes but call them demos (possibly even by accident). Or maybe I should listen to the actual album again to be more sure. The vocals on Landfill do sound different (a bit more echo, perhaps?) but I've not listened to the album in a while, so maybe I'm just mis-remembering. I still love the simplicity of those lyrics. Behemoth is the only thing that really sounds like a demo - it fits perfectly onto the album musically, although the vocals are much cleaner than anything else from the era. It's a nice addition, but not worth the entry cost on it's own.

Thinking about it, it's a rather major criticism of a record - the idea that it really doesn't need to exist because it sounds identical to one that I paid the grand sum of £2.85 for on eBay (including postage!). A bigger criticism is the artwork, which looks like someone bashed together in about 3 minutes in a Word doc. The font is definitely the first one they found in the dropdown menu. It bothers me that there's a white square before the word "Pitch" and one after, but not one after "Shifter" - it makes sense when the two words are written one above the other - as on the Industrial artwork, but makes no sense in one line. Mostly it's one of the least interesting looking record sleeves I own, but that aspect is just infuriating. The italic version of the font on the centre label is even more horrific. I'm no design snob, but it looks terrible.

Some nice things to say about it - it's a really heavy, thick vinyl (but why you'd want the demos (allegedly) to be pressed on nicer vinyl than the album itself I don't know), and it's on clear vinyl which is more interesting than just black vinyl. Etched into the run-out grooves are the coordinates of a location in Bristol, which I think is where they hid a "Pitch Shifter skull", although I remember a tweet that no one had discovered it for a good while; I don't have much time to spare, let alone in Bristol, so even if I had noticed these earlier, I doubt I'd have made the journey. It didn't come with a download code, but I'm pretty sure I could just shuffle around the tracks from Industrial in iTunes and have six-sevenths of the experience digitally. 

Format: 12", numbered (462/500)
Tracks: 7
Cost: £18 new
Bought: Record Culture
When: 26/01/21
Colour: Clear
Etching: Side A: "51°26'33'' N - 2°32'10'' W" Side B: "Seth-Wynn-Seth Forever"
mp3s: no 

Nirvana - Nevermind

Like basically everyone on the planet, I own a copy of Nevermind by Nirvana. The only slightly remarkable thing about that is I didn't until April last year. As a grown man of 35-years, I bought a copy of Nevermind.

It's important to note that this wasn't my first copy of Nevermind. That album shares an interesting honour of being one of two albums I've bought and then sold (along with Back in Black by AC/DC). I think I'd bought a second hand copy from someone (but I can't remember who - I certainly hadn't bought it in a shop), but then ended up swapping it with a guy I sat next to at school called Johnny in exchange for A Perfect Circle's Mer de Noms - a good album, but let's not pretend it has anywhere near the significance of Nevermind. My spreadsheet has Mer de Noms as costing £6 (in November 2000), so I must have paid £6 for my copy of Nevermind. 

Of course, I didn't get rid of Nevermind because I didn't like it (the same can't be said for Back in Black - for some reason they never struck as a band I should really give two shits about), but somehow, at the age of 16, I already knew Nevermind well enough that I didn't need to listen to it. In the short time between getting into music and giving my copy of Nevermind to Johnny, I'd heard Nevermind for the first time and then played it to death. 

In the nearly-20 years between copies of this in my collection I'd listened to and seen live countless covers of the songs, and demos of most of them on the With the Lights Out boxset (and Kevin Devine's remarkably faithful cover of the whole album - I was definitely expecting it to not sound exactly like the Nirvana version), so it wasn't like the songs hadn't graced my ears. Plus, I've heard Smells Like Teen Spirit at basically every rock club night I've ever been to (plus as part of the seemingly essential "rock trio" of songs at the middle-of-the-road club nights at uni - Lancaster's speciality was this, The Day We Caught the Train and Seven Nation Army).

All that said, I have since found myself playing this quite a lot. It's album so closely linked to being a teenager that it's quite nostalgic, probably more-so for the fact I couldn't play it over the years. I hope Nirvana are still considered an important band when my daughters are teenagers - I like that these songs were such a staple of the life of every teenager-getting-into-rock for at least a few years around when it was for me. No matter what people say about Smells Like Teen Spirit, or how over-played it might be, it is just a very exciting song; it still makes me want to throw myself around in a mosh pit like I'm not a slightly-tired man in his mid-thirties with a perpetually sore back. I like music that reminds me I used to be youthful.

There's really not much else to say about the album itself. It's an incredible record in isolation, let alone in the bigger picture. It's not the greatest album of all time, but I can understand why it gets considered one of them (again, in isolation, but as well as the bigger picture). The only people I've ever met who have said otherwise have always found themselves endlessly singing the praises of Bleach or (more often) In Utero instead; I always felt they were being unnecessarily obtuse - even if you think In Utero is the better record, it doesn't make Nevermind a bad one. If anything, the fact that the only criticism I've ever really heard of it is that the album either side of it was better speaks to what a solid record it is.

Format: 12", picture sleeves

Tracks: 12

Cost: £11.98 new

Bought: Resident Records website

When: 04/04/20

Colour: Black

Etching: none

mp3s: download code

Deftones - White Pony (20th Anniversary Deluxe Edition)

Oooh, this is going to be a long one. I've been actively avoiding starting this blog post.

Luckily I've mostly calmed down now and I think I can finally listen to Black Stallion without the rage I had the first time I heard it. In fact, if you skip the terrible, tossed-off, barely 2-minute-long "remix" of Feiticeira, it's not a bad album. Now, that's not the praise it could be - "not bad" is a pretty low bar, especially given the source material here. There's a fair amount to unpack here, and I'm still not sure where to start.

Let's go back to the beginning. When Deftones started talking about the 20th anniversary of White Pony, there was talk of "Black Stallion", a plan they always had to get people to remix the album - not a revolutionary idea, but certainly not one that many metal bands could have pulled off in 2000, and still quite interesting in 2020. When the re-release got announced, I got very excited, even though few of the remixers meant anything to me (five of the eleven were names I knew, or had at least heard of). There were a few options, all very expensive - for £55 you could get the 4LP version, or for double that you could get the 4LP version with the albums on cd too, and a fancy book. It'd just been my birthday, and between my parents and my in-laws I had precisely £110 in birthday money (partly in the form of a Norman Records voucher). Despite knowing that I didn't need to go for the more expensive version, I went for it anyway. Hilariously, I remember thinking "if Black Stallion is awesome, I'll be pleased to have mp3s of it"; little did I know. 

At some point towards the tail end of 2020 Black Stallion was released on streaming services (I know this because my desk was in the sitting room, but it hadn't got so cold that I moved it nearer to the radiator - during a monotonous pandemic, the various locations of my desk are really the only way I can distinguish within the passage of time). I frantically dug out my long-forgotten Spotify password and gave it a listen. My heart sank almost instantly. What the fuck was that remix of Feiticeira? How could DJ Shadow not focus the entire remix of Digital Bath around Chino's "I feel like moooore", instead of letting it drift off into a blur of noises? Even Robert Smith's remix of Teenager was thoroughly underwhelming. The only remix that I didn't hate on first listen was Mike Shinoda's remix of Passenger - I read some comments about the album on the internet afterwards (a dangerous thing to do, and not recommended in general) mostly to see if I wasn't the only one who hated it. One person made the interesting comment that the mixers didn't "respect" the band or the material enough to do a good job, and I see what they mean. Mike Shinoda is the exception to that rule - I suspect he is the only one who looks up to the Deftones (Robert Smith is a fan, but the admiration goes the other way there). Then I read a review where someone said that remix was the low-point of the album. I think I agree with the offended metalhead more than the artsy-reviewer though.

I'm now going to dedicate a whole paragraph to ripping into the remix of Feiticeira, so if you've already had enough of my rage about that particular song, you can probably skip this one. If you've not heard the remix, it starts off with a few lines of the original guitar, before falling away to something that barely resembles anything from the original song. One or two of Chino's lines are somewhere in the background, and the whole finishes before it even really starts. Feiticeira is one of the greatest openings to an album ever, and is a huge song. How Clams Casino thought they could spin it into a half-baked interlude I don't know; how it got onto the album is a bigger mystery. The "respect" comment from before feels particularly apt here - how could anyone who actually enjoys that song, that album and the importance it plays turn in something so half-hearted? It's making me angry all over again. Utter garbage. I'm nearly tempted to buy that over-priced Record Store Day 12" just to have a better remix of Feiticeira (the b-side), and I've not even heard that one. But I can't see how it could be any worse.

But, if you just skip that song (in what world do you "just skip" Feiticeira? Argh!) then there's less to get angry about. Once I realised that was the solution, I have played Black Stallion a few more times. I couldn't say I've enjoyed it - it's not a patch on White Pony - but I've seen some of the appeal. In fact, in places it becomes an album you could play in polite company and people might enjoy (hang on, I'm trying to say the positive is that they've turned one of the greatest albums of all time into generic background music? What have I become?). The exception to that of course being Blanck Mass's remix of Elite, which somehow manages to be even heavier. I almost wish they'd gone the other way - I'd love to hear a non-brutal version of that song. A few of the songs really have few redeeming features - I'd be hard pushed to tell you anything about the remixes of Korea and Change (in the House of Flies) and I'm literally listening to the second one right now. It feels like a fucking relief when Squarepusher doesn't do away with the guitars in Pink Maggit - I'm always desperate to hear a guitar ever since they disappeared in Feiticeira (of course, he punishes us by distorting Chino for no reason other than he had to do something to get his fee I guess).

So those are my thoughts on Black Stallion. I keep thinking back to when it announced and how naïve I was to have high hopes about it, which is ridiculous because it was a year ago, not something that happened in my youth. I should have known I'd hate a remix album, I hate almost all remixes of rock music. With very few exceptions, they're all terrible. I guess that remix album of Explosions in the Sky's All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone was good, but I feel like the remixers were peers, rather than intentionally different. Why did I think this was going to be good? Maybe because the original album was so great, I figured how could anyone make it sound bad. Well, now I know.

I never thought I'd be writing about the 20th anniversary version of White Pony and have had such bad things to say, let alone to have written six paragraphs without talking much about the eleven songs that changed my life back in the year 2000. As written about on here many years ago, I have an original pressing of White Pony on vinyl, so I didn't need to buy this to have a copy of the album I love so much on vinyl. I love that album, I think I always will. It was special, unique and the peak of so many things. I still love Deftones, but I don't think I've loved them more than when this album came out. It felt important and we were lucky enough to be right there at the right time to watch it unfold.

So, original White Pony and dubious-at-best Black Stallion aside, what else is there to say? Well, still more! For one, there's amazingly little here for a 20th anniversary version. For the prices they're charging, you'd want more for sure - would it have killed them to throw in The Boy's Republic from the limited edition cd? They could even have put the Back to School EP on vinyl and that would have been exciting (although I appreciate their animosity to that particular release). Demos, live songs, literally any other material would have been welcome. In all the various versions of this release, you just got the same 22 songs. I can't believe there aren't fascinating curios from the era that fans would have lapped up (and all of them would have been better than Black Stallion). The deluxe edition includes a book with some notes from the band about the songs (well, one comment per song. Again, more would've been nice) and a lot of photos. 

One thing that particularly bugs me about this release is that the regular 4LP version looks so much better than this one. I saw it in a shop the other day and thought "I wish I'd bought that one instead" (regardless of the price and content). The black and white art looks so much cooler than the silver and white here - it's really bold and impressive. I ordered this long before images of each one were available, so I wasn't to know. I don't like the idea of "regret" in general, and I certainly don't regret buying this one, but in hindsight I kinda wish I'd spent my money differently - I have White Pony on vinyl, so I could've just bought the cd version to hear Black Stallion; if I'd loved Black Stallion (ha!) I could've then bought the 4LP and still have money to spare. Oh well, you live and you learn.

Format: 4x12", book, picture, picture sleeves

Tracks: 22

Cost: £110.99 new

Bought: Norman Records website

When: 26/02/21

Colour: Black

Etching: etching on side H

mp3s: cds

Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here

I remember my dad buying a copy of Wish You Were Here on cd when I was a teenager. I'd been properly into music for a little while and remember thinking how strange it was that he'd just go out one day and spend £15 on a new cd when I'm sure he could have found it cheaper with a bit of hunting. But I guess he was just in the mood to hear the album again and fancied buying it. Pink Floyd had always been a favourite of his, probably more-so than Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, the other two bands I'd assumed were his top-three from back in the day, based on his record collection. He'd shared a place with some friends when he was younger, and they took turns buying new records, hence his patchy collection. Wish You Were Here was one of the ones his friends had bought, so he'd gone a good number of years without playing it (I think this all happened after the release of the Pink Floyd best-of, Echoes, so perhaps hearing two of the songs on there made him want to play the rest).

I borrowed the cd and had a listen in my room at some point afterwards and enjoyed it. I've always had a bit of a soft-spot for middle-era Pink Floyd (the early days do nothing for me, not that familiar with the tail end); Black Sabbath are my favourite of the three "dad bands", and Led Zeppelin have their moments (and in the right time and place can sound amazing), but Pink Floyd just had something about them. In my rough memory of the timeline, I'd bought myself a live recording of The Wall in early 2001, and Echoes was November 2001, so this would be after that. 

I enjoyed Wish You Were Here. I loved how long Shine On You Crazy Diamond was, and how (almost obnoxiously) long the song is before any vocals come in; the saxophone was amazing and the way the guitars nearly sing the chorus was brilliant. Welcome to the Machine and Have a Cigar felt angry, or as angry as you could expect from a band that weren't metal. The title track was just a truly incredible song, a little pool of normality in a sprawling (in song length, not quantity), quite difficult album (in a lot of ways). I don't know if there is any generally accepted ranking of their discography, but I can imagine this one is number two or three in most cases. I didn't know that going into it at the time (I knew Dark Side of the Moon was number one, I'd always assumed The Wall was number two. It was years before I heard Animals).

Like my father before me, I also went for years and years without hearing Wish You Were Here again. He certainly went longer; the gap for me would've been about 16 years. I found this copy in one of the greatest charity shop hauls of all-time (18 albums by Floyd, Zeppelin, Dylan and REM for £6, all in incredible condition. It was like someone had discarded the record collection of someone as anal as me, but marginally younger than my dad). I couldn't believe my luck as I flicked through the records, ignoring my infant daughter in her pushchair as I pulled out classic record after classic record. I don't remember which album I found first, or when I realised I was onto such an incredible find - after a while I stopped being surprised to find great albums and was even eventually a bit disappointed there weren't more Floyd and Zeppelin. I certainly don't remember thinking "yes, Wish You Were Here!", it was more likely "another Floyd, great". The sleeve is in amazing condition given its age, and the previous owner used to keep the records in paper sleeves rather than the picture sleeves, so the inner sleeve looks new.

This Christmas just gone, between waves of pandemic, I visited some more charity shops and was very pleased to find a copy of Wish You Were Here on cd (meaning I'd have mp3s of it too), along with a standard version of a Manics album on cd that I needed. I think I was actually more excited to find those than I was the vinyl, mainly because the rest of the haul that morning was a bit shit. I plan to buy all the Pink Floyd albums in time, but I see them more of a cd band than a vinyl one. That said, I'm of course pleased to have a handful of their best on vinyl.

Format: 12", picture sleeve
Tracks: 5
Cost: £0.33 second-hand
Bought: Blue Cross charity shop, Kidlington
When: 01/12/18
Colour: Black
Etching: none
mp3s: none

Mogwai - Central Belters

 

I feel like curating the Mogwai best-of must have been one of the easiest tasks whoever did it did that week; if you put their back-catalogue on shuffle and took the first three hours of songs that came up, you'd have a collection that was both a) uniquely Mogwai and b) full of bangers. It goes without saying that the actually-curated best-of is an amazing listen and a brilliant use of 12 sides of vinyl and well over three hours of your time.

My Mogwai collection still has some glaring holes, but I've been enjoying gradually working on it – one large hole is their debut album Mogwai Young Team, one of the first albums of theirs I heard (which I bought on cd in Spillers a week after buying The Hawk is Howling). Whilst under-represented here (on paper at least - do we count the original version of Summer separately? Does it's 16-minute runtime balance out the multiple shorter songs from other albums?), it is great to finally have Mogwai Fear Satan on vinyl. There's still something really pleasing about seeing one song take up a whole side of vinyl and Mogwai Fear Satan does that perfectly. It's then quite surprising that the other song that takes up a whole side of vinyl never made it onto an album, despite being a live favourite and ridiculously huge song – it takes a lot of sides of vinyl to get to My Father My King but it is absolutely worth it every time. I suspect at some point after getting most of the LPs on vinyl I'd have got round to seeking out the single, but I'm glad I've been listening to this for the last six years, rather than waiting for the point in my life when I got round to seeking it out. I love that you can see the quiet part in the grooves of the vinyl.

Mogwai have been around long enough to have a number of different eras, and I think I'm firmly a circa-2010 era guy. It might help that The Hawk is Howling was the first album of theirs I heard, but I also love Hardcore Will Never Die and I think Les Revenants is the greatest soundtrack they've done by a good distance – it’s a contender for the "best soundtrack that actually works even better as an album", running against The Fountain, which they were also involved with, although I'm never very sure how much was Clint Mansell and how much was Mogwai. Anyway, as a result I think the selections from those albums are great. The songs from Mr Beast also sound amazing, more-so than I remember them sounding on the actual LP. We're No Here sounds particularly great. The early era has some highs and some lows for me – Summer is a huge way to start (I love the way it races ahead of the xylophone) and Christmas Steps is the highlight of Come On Die Young. I've never really loved that album as much as everyone else seems to, and Cody feels like a bit of a downer here. Similarly, Stanley Kubrick from EP (or EP+6, as I know the release) is a bit nothingy. 

The odds and ends that make up the final two discs are interesting - Hugh Dallas is always good (classic slow build) and Devil Rides with it's vocals from prolific musician Roky Erickson is unexpected and a bit bizarre, but great to hear. Strangely, we get one song from Les Revenants in the usual chronological section as well as one in this section - not sure why. Personally, Hungry Face is the one I associate more with the show, but Wizard Motor is probably the better song in the usual sense. Earth Division is another nice one I wouldn't have heard. I didn't realise until just now that the song itself isn't on the Earth Division EP (which I regret not buying when I saw it in Banquet around the time it came out - I can't remember why I didn't buy it).

It'd be wrong to not dwell on just what a nice package this boxset is too. Each record has one letter from the word "Mogwai" on the cover and a selection of incredibly brightly coloured sleeves, contrasting the grey, fabric-lined outer box. The booklet is brilliantly detailed and a good read - the concert tickets and set-lists from over the years are particularly nice. All this for just under £50 is a ridiculous bargain - they could have charged twice as much and I'd still have bought it and still have been raving about how great it was.

Format: 6x 12", boxset, booklet

Tracks: 34

Cost: £49 new

Bought: Norman Records website

When: 23/10/15

Colour: Black

Etching: None

mp3s: Download code

Hot Water Music - Live in Chicago

It’s now been so long since I went to a concert that live albums are starting to take on new meanings. I bought this Hot Water Music triple live LP because at the time there was no best-of compilation and I quite liked the idea of having all their best songs in one place. And this record ticks that box and then some; just look at those first four songs – A Flight and a Crash into Remedy into Wayfarer (one of their greatest songs full stop) into Trusty Chords. What a way to start a show. That is a truly amazing run of songs, the sort you end a show with not start with. It'd be fair to say that the rest of the album doesn't hit such heights again, but how could it?

And pre-pandemic, this album was just a good way to hear all my favourite HWM songs in one place (although three discs is stretching the definition of "one place" – I could equally play Fuel for the Hate Game, A Flight and A Crash and Caution in their entireties, hear 90% of my favourite HWM songs and have got out of my seat the same number of times). But it's now been 16 months since I last went to a concert, an otherwise unfathomable gap between shows, and it's only going to get longer. So when I put the needle on this record, my mind is thrown back to the first time I saw HWM play, in a sweaty dodgy venue in Newport, South Wales surrounded by every punk I'd made acquaintances in the two years I'd lived in Cardiff - it was 9 months after I'd left for London but there was no doubt in my mind that if I was going to see HWM it'd be in South Wales. It was horrifically hot, beer-soaked and chaotic. We'd been drinking in beer gardens in the afternoon and the show was perfect. More than 10 years have passed since, but this record puts me right back there, struggling to sing along to any of the choruses (partly because I still know less than a third of the words being sung at any given point). I saw HWM twice more after that show - to a disappointingly small crowd at Reading Festival and to a raucous hometown crowd on the first night of my first Fest, but that Newport show will always be my favourite memory. And it's nice that I can take myself right back there with this record.

I've only mentioned the first four songs here so far, but there are some other great moments - "God Deciding" and Kill the Night are two of my favourite non-album songs and both get played, which is great (they'd both be missing from the alternative choice of three records I mentioned above). Moonpies for Misfits is a great slower one that I often forget about. Side 5 has the opening duo from Fuel (in reverse order) which is another huge moment on the album, and The Sense from Caution sounds amazing - it's not a song I'd ever have listed as being amongst my favourites but it's definitely up there.

This copy, as with most variants, is from the second run which featured different colour sleeves to match the records and Discogs tells me that there were 550 of each colour. I bought it one day in Banquet - I don't remember them having any other colours, but I was perfectly happy with blue. I was aware of the record before seeing it there that day, and without the tracklisting printed anywhere on the sleeve I had to trust that it'd be huge, but it was just after Christmas and I guess I just fancied spending some money. Of course £17 for a triple LP is now a bargain regardless what's actually on it.

Two years later an actual best-of compilation did come out, but I've not bought it - mostly because I have this record, which is more interesting owing to it being a live recording, but also because it doesn't have "God Deciding" and Kill the Night on (however does have Poison and Drag My Body, two of the best songs they wrote in their more recent eras). To be honest, if I saw it in a shop, I probably would buy it, but that says more about my compulsive record buying than it does the relative merits of these two albums.

Format: Triple 12", insert
Tracks: 30
Cost: £17 new
Bought: Banquet Record, Kingston
When: 04/01/13
Colour: Blue
Etching: Side A: "I love these chords" Side B: "From voice to ear" Side C: "Scarred but here" Side D: "You are not alone" Side E: "I must always remember" Side F: "This makes me whole"
mp3s: Download code

Will Oldham - Songs of Love and Horror

On one hand, I've probably not given this record the time it deserves, but on the other, I think if I enjoyed it more I would give it more time. And thinking about it, I have played it quite a lot in various attempts to get into it, but I still consider it one of those records I haven't played enough.

It didn't come with mp3s, so the odds were stacked against it from the off. The other factor that didn't help is that it's not the first album I have of Will Oldham re-recording his own songs, and that album was a huge disappointment (so, much like so many others, this story goes back long before this record even came out). I bought Bonnie "Prince" Billy's Sings Palace's Greatest Hits quite soon after getting into his music - he'd released so many albums and they were all so readily available I figured a compilation of sorts would be a great way to sample a bunch of his songs. But on that album he re-recorded some of his earlier songs in a country-style and the results are not what I came to his music to hear. I've not listened to that cd in many, many years (although I'm now wondering if I should give it another chance). I'd heard New Partner on the excellent Is It the Sea? live album, but the version on Sings Palace's Greatest Hits was not my cup of tea in the slightest. (This version feels very casual in the verses, but suitably solemn in the chorus.) That cd made me tread with caution through the rest of his back-catalogue and I've not been so care-free since.

So when I saw this album was coming out, I decided not to buy it. But then, just after Christmas in 2018, I was in Banquet on what is now an increasingly rare trip and fancied buying a lot of new vinyl. I saw this one in the racks and it was an easy sell when I was already dropping a lot of money. I figured he wouldn't pull the same trick twice (country covers) and it started with I See a Darkness, a song that I think everyone agrees is not only one of his finest songs, but one of the finest songs full stop. I also spotted New Partner on the tracklisting, but that was the extent of the songs I knew by title. I actually have half of these songs in my collection in their original forms, but that's mostly because The Letting Go spawned three of the songs here. One of those, The Way, is a highlight here, but still not as good as the original.

All of which brings me to I See a Darkness itself. I'd go so far as to say that there's not been a bad cover of that song because I've only ever heard good ones. I'm no huge fan of Johnny Cash, nor do I have the American albums that he recorded towards the end of his life, but I've heard a lot of the covers he did of more recent songs, and his cover of I See a Darkness is up there with Hurt in terms of the most hauntingly appropriate songs for him to sing. With that in mind, I'd go so far as to say this isn't even the best cover of the song. It's really nice, don't get me wrong, but it doesn't add anything. That said, it's always nice to hear any version of it because it's such a beautiful song.

Format: 12", picture sleeve
Tracks: 12
Cost: £18 new
Bought: Banquet Records, Kingston
When: 27/12/18
Colour: Black
Etching: None
mp3s: None

Tim Kasher - Adult Film

I've probably written about this before, but here we go again: I once saw Tim Kasher play a set at Fest on Halloween and he was absolutely battered. He came on stage just after midnight wearing a wedding dress and make-up, and the set veered between train-wreck and brilliance in ways it's hard to describe. On one hand, you couldn't take your eyes off it in a he's-going-to-regret-this-in-the-morning way, but on the other, he played the songs perfectly and there were some that sounded truly amazing. I can't remember too well which Cursive songs he played (I wasn't entirely sober myself, but in a far better state than Tim), but I remember one from The Ugly Organ sounding absolutely wonderful.

That was 2013, and early in 2014 he released his new solo album, Adult Film. He toured the album in May and we went to see him in The Windmill, with Garrett Klahn from Texas is the Reason and a guy called Karl Larsson who is apparently from a Swedish band called Last Days of April supporting. It was a nice show - hearing some Texas is the Reason songs is always nice - but we knew it was unlikely to touch that Fest show; Tim didn't come onstage drunk in fancy dress, and it was much more about the songs than wondering if it was going to descend into a crime scene. After the show I bought the new album.

Between Cursive and The Good Life, it's hard to understand the distinction between the bands and a solo album. If you told me this was a Good Life album, I'd believe you - there's not much in common with Cursive, but this could sit quite happily in the Good Life back-catalogue - it's poppy in places (in a good way) but I guess relies a bit more on organs and synths to drive the songs. I'd be lying if I said that was my thing, but I can enjoy it for what it is.

The first half has three great songs (American Lit, Truly Freaking Out and The Willing Cuckold), one easily forgettable song (Where's Your Heart Lie) and the obligatory track I can't stand - I've definitely written about this before - how Tim Kasher-related album in the last 10 (15?) years seems to have one song that has a thoroughly annoying chorus that makes me want to skip it every time. Life and Limbo is that song here. Painfully annoying stuff. The second side has fewer high, but A Raincloud is a Raincloud is nice, as is the closer.

Format: 12", insert
Tracks: 11
Cost: £12 new
Bought: Gig
When: 03/05/14
Colour: Black
Etching: None
mp3s: Download code