This Is The River by Fair Oaks

I am so over the Polar Vortex. Temperatures in the teens are far too cold for this mild-weather-loving Seattle girl to handle. Hell, I'd almost take back DC Summer of 2012, with it's one-hundred-degrees, can't walk two blocks outside without keeling over, miserable, heat and humidity. Can spring be here already? This weekend was an unfair tease, especially while being sick inside.

Currently, I'm away from the frigidness with a cup of coffee and the album, This Is The River by Fair Oaks. Recently released in mid-January, this was an undertaking that was three years in the making and by golly does it sound that way. Taking inspiration from the Mississippi River, This Is The River, hinges the gap between the seasons and is a perfect segway into the spring. I can't help but reminiscence about past warmer weather adventures too: patio brunches, street festivals, outdoor markets, bookstore hops, and picnics. Add in a little vintage charm and I've done as good as I can describing the appeal of this album.

With a twee pop folk sound, accompanied by the occasional trumpet and french horn, led by dueling male and female vocals, the best two comparisons to Fair Oaks I could offer up would be Del Water Gap or Aiden Knight. However, there's a little bit of Radiation City with the retro glam, some Typhoon when I hear the trumpet blare, The Research when songs are especially twee and a lot of other folk and/or alternative influences that strike me at short, random instances.  I haven't enjoyed an album so multidimensional and so full of pleasant surprises in a long time.

The album starts out with a rolling folk sound, with See What the Sun Gave. If there's anything that can persevere through the cold, this song is likely it. The piano and harmonies from both the male and female vocalists, create the sunny feeling one would find from a Slow Club track. Coming Through gives off a much more old-time blues vibe at first but flows into lush harmonies and trumpet backings. This Is The River (I, II, III) is seven minutes long and is an enchanting love letter to the Mississippi.

Duluth (Pull Me Into Your Soul) and Omaha (You Give Me The Feelings), are also love letters to their respective midwest cities. With Omaha, there's this light happiness that reminds me of some of Cataldo's work on Prison Boxing, a very high praise in my book. I like the comparisons the lyrics put forth: Omaha gives the feelings to help get along but alcohol kicks in the shins and chases down the hall. What are they saying? Is Omaha a better drug for releasing that carefree attitude that comes with drinking or does Omaha inspire the foolish drunken tendencies in the first place? I may never know but I always smile (and dance a bit) when I play this track.

Listen to This Is The River on bandcamp and while you're there, purchase the album. For a hard copy, the album is available in the band's store. While it is early on in the year, I already have my first contender for album of the year.
 

[Weekend Video] Island by Wyatt Overman (Live Basement)

This album was recorded over the span of two winters. In basements & bedrooms.

Go fifty miles from the nearest city and step outdoors. Whether the terrain is mountainous, a desert wasteland, covered in trees, or sprawling with flat country, the effect remains the same. A breath of fresh air, a step away from civilization and all of a sudden we're confronted with our clearest thoughts and greatest demons. With certain songs and certain albums, I can recreate this feeling just by pressing play. Two Winters, by Wyatt Overman is one of those albums.

As much as I've tried to find the right words to pair with Two Winters, words that could convey even the slightest brilliance the album brings to listeners, I've given up beyond what I've written above.

In a dark basement, fitting to the album's tagline, Overman performs Island with a raw passion and beauty that I didn't think could be more memorizing than the original song. With cuts to picturesque scenes of nature, juxtaposed with the dimly lit basement cave, the video presents this trapped-in-the-open feeling that pairs perfectly with Island's lyrics.

Stream Two Winters on Overman's bandcamp page.

 

Chapters by Marshall Lewis

I'm no stranger to loving contemplative songs surrounding the issues of maturing, moving on, growing up or the passage of time. Before anyone casts judgement my way, I'm in my early twenties and music is my biggest but least obnoxious quarter-life crisis outlet. Instead of pouring my thoughts out in controversial or annoying Thought Catalog type lists, I have playlist after playlist of reflective but almost sulking tracks that feel right in this period of my life. 

Chapters by Marshall Lewis is a song I have been waiting months to have in my rotation of reflection-provoking music. Back in the early days of District of Folk, I wrote about Marshall Lewis' song, Step Into My Life (Restless) because I was so dearly impressed. At the time, he was just eighteen but already drawing rightful comparisons to Dallas Green of City and Colour. With Justin Vernon and Sufjan Stevens as other inspirations, he's setting a high bar for himself to live up to. Yet, somehow, that bar seems attainable the more I hear. 

Don't get me wrong, I will always love the early work from Marshall Lewis. However, I can't help but be excited for the direction his music is moving towards. Chapters has a beautifully polished sound and wisdom that puts him on a level playing-field with the big names in the genre. The brooding lyrics paired with the emotive vocal chords and soft guitar may fit the cookie-cutter mold of radio-bound folk, but beneath the surface Chapters offers so much more. 

I've been rooting for Marshall Lewis for seven months now and I will continue to do so. He strikes me as wise beyond his years and gives off good-natured vibes that will appeal to a broad spectrum of fans. Chapters only affirms these thoughts.

Listen to Chapters on Soundcloud or Spotify. I truly think this is a folk gem that everyone could appreciate. If low-fi electronica is more of your thing, the remix by Ianborg & Bronze Whale is also worth a listen. 

Only Time Will Tell (Demo) by Neal Martin Amundson

I have a soft spot for demos. In a way, a musician is trusting listeners with their vulnerabilities. These are honest words, the visions of a single song-writer or the few members of a band, and a raw sound that truly captures an artist's abilities. Sadly, while demos can be the bridge between recording songs in a bedroom and the possibility of mainstream success, it can be difficult to track them down. Nowadays, with sites such as bandcamp, soundcloud and the easy ability to upload songs for the world to hear, so many talented individuals are coming forth. There are the songs and albums recorded in basements, in living rooms, with family, with friends... Songs and albums that are so homegrown and so outstanding. These songs and these albums are the reason why I blog.

The current demo stuck in my head is this track, Only Time Will Tell by Neal Martin Amundson. To be honest, this is another Reddit find. Much like how Matthew Fowler posted Beginning once upon a time, "CrispyNeal" wanted r/indiefolk to take a chance on his music. I went for it.

Only Time Will Tell appears to be a coming of age/ moving on story that is stark and realistic. I'm not sure what Amundson's background is, but these are insights one usually only has after moving away from home, betting on yourself, and following your dreams. The song starts out steady but with no hook. Usually, I know I'll love a song after a few seconds. I almost gave up until the chorus changed everything,"but only time will tell, if I'm across the state line and living well. Well, they say that's what passion's for, stepping out and seeing more. So, kick me passionately out the door." These wise words are consistently stuck in my head as of late.

Listen to Only Time Will Tell on soundcloud and marvel at how great the music climate is these days.

Mix: The World Takes (Winter 2014)

(jumping on the seasonal playlist bandwagon)

Winter is here. I'm shivering with every step away from my apartment building door and huddling indoors as much as I can. There's no sign of summer anywhere, even if we were blessed with those two seventy degree days last week. I'm ready for the hibernation. Give me cuddling and netflix over heading out to the bars any night now. 

This season will pass quickly. There's my looming trip to Colombia on the horizon and pushing through the last few weeks of an out-of-town work project. With any luck, Spring will be here upon our arrival back from abroad. I'm not saying I want Winter to come and go, but it's by far my least favorite season. 

This mix flows well. I'm no longer pretending that songs fit together on a mix - these ones do. The artists represented here are both new and old loves. The cover art I whipped up is from a photo I took on the Amtrak up to Boston. I found the Lower Trenton Bridge to be intriguing and beautiful in its own way. 

1. City By The Sea - Fort Frances
2. Step Out - Jose Gonzalez 
3. If This Is Your Love - Andrew Austin
4. Feel For Me - Foy Vance
5. Will It Grow - Jakob Dylan
6. She Wants to Know - Half Moon Run
7. Cuckoo Song - A Silent Film
8. Holding On For Life - Broken Bells
9. Bad Kingdom - Moderat
10. Drop the Game - Flume, Chet Faker
11. You As You Were - Shearwater
12. Two Winters - Wyatt Overman
13. The Line - The Eastern Sea
14. Mask - Folly and the Hunter
15. Taft - Donovan Woods
16. Setting Our Tables - The Last Bison

Spotify 

Shadow of A Man by Neulore

In an era of acts such as Lord Huron, Wake Owl, Field Division, and even Local Natives, bands that blend folk with thunderously big harmonies, picturesque soul searching lyrics and a touch of dream pop are making the genre more accessible to everyone. I have this theory that, at least for a while, we've seen the last of new "Mumford" bands getting radio play. The move towards a more alternative or pop sound is sure to win out over campy, mandolin-laced tracks, in my opinion. 

Shadow of a Man by Neulore would be another move in that direction, speaking to the part of our instincts that aspire to go home after a period of wanderlust. While the band is composed of two guys (+ friends) from Nashville, I find the sound teetering between the forests of the Pacific Northwest and the deserts of the Southwest. However, according to their bio, the duo is focusing on bringing "heartfelt songs to the masses", the pursuit of wisdom, community and telling stories to their listens. Those sentiments are Southern.

In 2010, the two released Apples & Eve, and appeared to remain quiet for a period of time. Shadow of a Man was released in March this year, though tonight is the first time I've heard the track. What I find even more shocking is how this track appeared in an episode of Grey's Anatomy and it still completely slipped under my radar. With a record deal, TV placements, and new merchandise in 2013, 2014 is surely the year Neulore will strike even bigger. I can't wait for a full album release.

Listen to Shadow of a Man and give yourself hope that mainstream folk will proceed in this direction. The track is available to listen to and buy on bandcamp and soundcloud.

In Now And Then by Cataldo

CATALDO – LP4 COMING 2014 from Tyler Kalberg on Vimeo.

Eric Anderson, the multi-instrumentalist and lyricist behind Cataldo, knows how to craft albums with insanely brilliant songs about the trials and tribulations of life and love. Prison Boxing, released in 2011, features nine tracks with notions of hopeless romanticism, clever metaphors, and vivid imagery that has listeners both aspiring to find magic and staying realistic. I had this album on repeat for most of the year.

It was announced a few months ago that we'd see another album from Cataldo, Gilded Oldies, in the new year. I'm already anticipating this album to be one of my favorites of 2014. Unfortunately, March 4 is still two months away.

To hold us over, MAGNET Magazine premiered a track off of the album. In Now And Then stays true to Cataldo's distinct style and sound, yet also feels more mature. There's the opening piano and drum bit with a lush rhythm that has me tapping and nodding along. The trumpets are a treat that build up to the best instrumental portions presented in these three minutes. Lyrically, there's not as much to offer but I don't feel as if I'm missing out. "I'll be in now and then" continues with Anderson's apparent tradition of vague lyrics that are likely attributable to failed relationships. These emotions aren't trivial ones. "I'll be in now and then" could represent that sinking feeling in my stomach as I wander the streets of my neighborhood, anticipating the dreaded moment where I'll see an ex-boyfriend. Replace "Rebecca, Rebecca, Rebecca" with the name of any ex-boyfriend or girlfriend and this song just became easy to relate to.

Listen to In Now And Then over on MAGNET Magazine's online site. Join me as I count down the days until Gilded Oldies is released.

Weekend Video: Cheap Motel by Andrew Austin & Donovan Woods

I have been simultaneously adoring Andrew Austin and Donovan Woods lately. Austin's While It's Still Light Out and Woods' Don't Get Too Grand, have consumed my quiet moments, long commutes, and neighborhood walks. In early December, I attempted to create a playlist for the month and couldn't get past Inside Out and The Coldest State. I gave up on getting any further, yet still the playlist resides on my spotify pane.

The two Canadian artists are reminiscent of Dallas Green when he was younger. The two have intelligent, honest lyrics, that showcase the optimism and pessimism surrounding relationships. While Austin leans towards the happier moments and Woods towards the more-challenging, the two albums on shuffle seem to create this beautifully, complete picture of love.

I found Austin and Woods to be complimentary before learning they were friends in real life. Their endearing twitter banter and support of each others' works adds a whole new level of charm.

Listen to Austin and Woods sing Austin's Cheap Motel in someone's living room and try not to swoon.

The Oh Hello's Family Christmas Album

Happy Holidays from my little corner of the district! My Christmas plans do not involve jetsetting out west, but do involve Christmas Eve sleepovers and celebrating with wonderful friends who are in a similar boat. I feel extremely fortunate to be blessed with the best friends I could ever ask for in this city and it makes the sting of missing family a little less painful.

What are people listening to today? I've never been a big fan of Christmas music. My mother used to stream only one local radio station from the end of Thanksgiving to Christmas each yeah that supplied the family with countless renditions of Do You Hear What I Hear?, Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree and other timeless classics that make me cringe. I'm honestly of the opinion that one only needs two Christmas songs in their life: Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Death Cab for Cutie and All I Want for Christmas is You by Mariah Carey.

I'm going to amend that opinion to include The Oh Hello's superb Christmas EP, The Oh Hello's Family Christmas Album. The Oh Hello's Through The Deep, Dark Valley, remains my most played album of the year, despite it being released in 2012. The Texas folk band has carried me through many trials and tribulations already this year and the holiday season without family will be another.

The four songs are folky takes on classics that sound so lovingly woven together. Less than thirty minutes and I can feel the Christmas spirit ooze out of my speakers. I want to see snow outside. I want to embrace all of those I love. I want to do something rash that can only be justified by it happening in the holiday season. The best albums are the ones that make you feel and for a Christmas album to evoke such feelings is truly a new sensation for me.

I can't pick a favorite. Mvmt I - Rejoice! Rejoice! starts the album off beautifully but the take on Silent Night in Mvmt III is chilling. Hearing the upbeat Joy to the World on Mvmt IV - Every Bell on Earth Will Ring just makes me smile and ponder my younger years.

Listen to The Oh Hello's Family Christmas Album today and tomorrow. Don't judge me if I stream it straight until the new year and count the days until the next holiday season.


Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Sonsick by San Fermin

No posts in November? Life has been kicking my ass lately on pretty much all fronts: 70 hour work weeks and commuting to a client four hours away on a weekly basis, getting back into running, going to and hosting random events with friends, and unsuccessfully fading away on a boy who refused to be faded away on. It's November 30th and I have not only survived this month but I've come out on top. I don't want this outlet to go away when I'm stressed but it's been difficult to find inspiration in even music these past few weeks.

I've had the usual staples on repeat - there's been a lot of Lord Huron and Valley Maker, which despite my adoration, do nothing but further the depressive cycle. I'm positive I've streamed Grace for Saints and Ramblers, Keep Yourself Warm and I Need My Girl about a hundred times a piece. Several other tracks have been sprinkled through this scrobbled history. I've kinda-sorta-actually fallen in love with someone else's playlist for a change. This "Morning Commute" mix, by Melissa Ecker, has held together my sanity while driving the total of eight hours to and from the middle-of-nowhere, Virginia each week.

While there are many gems to be found on her list, Sonsick by San Fermin was the song that shouldn't have grown on me the way it did. When driving long distances, I tend to tune out a bit more than normal. There's no reason to be as hyper aware of my surroundings as I would be during my normal commute. During one morning, around 6:30AM, the track didn't at all capture my attention until the chorus, which is purely shrill but in a pleasant way. At the time, I needed to identify the song and to remind myself to listen to it again at a later point. Dozens of streams later and I'm obsessed.

I've talked at length about end of summer songs and this one also fits that bill when reflecting upon my disastrous summer of flings, false hopes and ultimate disappointments - "it's a summer kind of sickness". Transitioning into slowing down and caring about other human beings again (other than just myself) has been a refreshing, but weird process. "I'll fall for you soon enough, I resolve to love" is an ongoing mantra right now. I want to give up the emotional shitshow. I want to get attached to people again. My friends alone in this city are worth it.

The overlapping and warring thoughts in the chorus ground me when I start to panic about extending an olive branch to those in my life I want to keep around for a long time.

"Oho, don't be scared / That it's a harder kind of feel
Hold on tight / You must hold on unless you're in it
Ease your mind / And when you think, you're thinking clear
It's alright / You're really tied up and committed
Won’t you say? / But it’s an awful lot of talk
Stop the fight / Before the fire burns too quickly
Don't be scared / Why do you wanna hurt at all?
Hurts all right / Someone's summer kind of sickness"

The rest of the song progresses into whimsical thoughts about future plans and settling. The picture it paints is simplicity at its finest but absolutely mediocre: "Maybe find a place where we could rest/ when we're old enough/ we can have a dog and all the rest/ we can live it up/ all dressed in my Sunday best." I question whether slowing down and caring is really all that.

Listen to Sonsick when you want a little bit of confusing comfort playing in the background of your life.

Chicago (Sufjan Stevens Cover) by Fort Frances

With Sufjan Stevens' Chicago, any city could be substituted for the windy city and any individual coming to age, starting over or finding themselves would be able to listen to and understand the complexities behind lyrics. I've always loved Stevens' approach here - upon first listen, the song almost sounds upbeat and peppy. However, peeling back each verse as a layer, the song grows progressively melancholic and any hope for a story to aspire to goes out the window. While some of us can relate here, none of us should really want to.

Fort Frances' cover wears the song's emotion right on the sleeve. From the beginning, anyone will know this story does not have a happy ending. At the very beginning of the song when "I fell in love again" appears, it's predictable by the end of the song a point will be reached where "I've made a lot of mistakes".

I can imagine myself streaming Fort Frances' cover over and over again the minute I decide the district isn't the place for me anymore. I've fallen in love with DC over the past two years, but as flighty of a person as I am, there will likely an incident that propels me to run. With every city there's this cycle one experiences where you: recreate your life, grow as a person, fall in love with the city and everyone within it but inevitably make mistakes and leave.

Within this cycle, I'm somewhere in between falling in love and making mistakes. Sometimes, I'm not so sure how much longer DC will have a hold on me.

You can listen to and download Chicago, as covered by Fort Frances, on Soundcloud. As an additional note, their new EP, Breathing Room, was released last week and is truly fantastic.

Typhoon @ Rock and Roll Hotel

How many more instruments will appear?

Typhoon was arguably my most anticipated show of the fall. I fell in love with Typhoon, the boy I was falling for fell in love with Typhoon and neither of us could listen to anything else. There was a pact or a common idea that if/when the band played in DC, we'd both end up at that show at any cost. When announced in late June, after spending a month heartbroken, I had this grand realization that no one has the ability to ruin music for me.

I have emotional layers built into certain artists. With Typhoon, the surface layer involves a bit of heartbreak. I discovered Summer Home and it was immediately shared over g-chat and adored by the boy. We spent hours streaming it in the background of our conversations, I sourced The Tender Loving Empire NW Pale Ale from Seattle for us to share (we never did), and us finding out about White Lighter is still a day I remember.

However, the surface layer is just that. There's no depth, no actual substance and the layer is easy to flake off and forget about. Typhoon, to me, at the core relates back to the chronic illness angle and how easily I can identify with their music. That will always triumph over someone who was only in my life for a mere four months.

I didn't see the boy at this show. I won't lie and say it wasn't a relief.

Lucky for me, I had fantastic company no matter the outcome. My friend, Katie, had always loved Hunger and Thirst, but disliked A New Kind of House. She was a bit wary of how White Lighter would sound but streamed the album in anticipation for the show. I'm so happy she ended up back on the Typhoon bandwagon. We arrived early and managed to score front row spots. Unfortunately, front row meant right in front of the twin drum sets and I'm pretty sure I permanently lost hearing that evening.

Radiation City opened. I've tried countless times to love and appreciate their music in the past, however, their opening set ended up being the missing piece I needed. They played quite a few songs from their newest album and rocked them all. I found myself highly drawn to their catchy 1960's-retro vibe and it's a style that is not overdone right now. Above all, every member of this band was extraordinarily talented and really attractive to boot. We enjoyed their performance and how it ended up being enough to tide us over in anticipation for the main act.

Shortly later, one by one, we watched as all eleven members of Typhoon crammed themselves on to the relatively small stage at Rock and Roll Hotel. It was quite the sight to see. Kitchen Tile started the set off and I'm glad it did. For such a short song, there's a lot of punch. From here on out though, we'd primarily be hearing White Lighter, in order, in its entirety. I'm still not sure if I particularly enjoyed that aspect, but the album order is there for a reason.

When White Lighter initially came out, I honestly thought it sounded over-produced. I changed my mind hearing the album played live. Every sound, every instrument, every part of every song was organically created by one or more of the members on stage. There's no over production involved - just eleven musicians able to create many but cohesive sounds. The timing was particularly tight as well - I found myself anticipating certain little standout sounds from the tracks and hearing them perfectly executed on the stage.

Artificial Light was as spectacular as anyone would expect it to be. Young Fathers was the first anthem song, where everyone chanted that last portion, "I just called to tell you, I just called to say, learn all your mistakes, passed down through generations". I held onto the "two minutes of morbid bliss" that was Possible Deaths and remembered why it could be my favorite song. Summer Home, my first introduction to Typhoon, was played in the middle of the set somewhere. Unfortunately, I hated how this sounded live - compared to the White Lighter tracks there was energy missing.

During the later half of the set, Dreams of Cannibalism was the anthem song - I'm pretty sure the crowd sang the entirety but especially "unhand me, I am not criminal". Hunger and Thirst was more popular than I was expecting, as was Common Sentiments. This is proof that Typhoon can carry a whole album, as there is no where during White Lighter for anyone's mind to wander off. As I've noted before, Post Script was a gorgeous end to the album and to the live set. For the encore, Caesar kicked off. I didn't particularly miss it during the main act, but I did enjoy hearing the little clip. Rules of the Game, their latest b-side, was the final song of the night.

Through and through, I adored this show and three weeks later, I think I'm still riding the show high. This is the fourth out of five amazing fall concerts that I just can't stop daydreaming about. Someone, please, take me back to that night.

Weekend Video: Ghosts by Folly and The Hunter (Southern Souls Session)

It's no secret that I adore Montréal band, Folly and The Hunter. Tragic Care refuses to be trumped by any other releases this year, as my favorite album of 2013. Bold as that statement may be, I can't stop listening to their insightful lyrics woven through their unique quiet-folk sound.

In anticipation for their European tour with Half Moon Run, they released an acoustic video of Ghost with Southern Souls. There's a lot to love here, but Nick Vallee's stripped down vocals really adds something to the poignant melancholy of the song. That moment in the song, when the music quiets down just a notch with "And the ghost keeps calling so you’re driving down the road and you’re not going back", especially stands out in this video. I like when songs build up to these hooks at the end. This one isn't loud but is prominent.

If you're fortunate enough to be in any of their European tour cities, go see them with Half Moon Run. Is there a better duo for a folk show? I don't think so.

Weekend Video: Typhoon @ Room 125 Productions

I'm happy the school year has started once again. Although I'm no longer in school, September means the return of Room 125 Productions' Classroom Sessions. In what may be the coolest class of all time, at Lawrence High School, students have the opportunity to meet with artists and develop their live film-making skills. The Classroom Sessions have featured a wide variety of artists since its inception in 2010, including many of my favorites: Hey Marseilles, Pickwick, The Local Strangers, Water Liars, and The Head and The Heart. Most recently, Typhoon stopped by to perform.

I'll have enough to say about Typhoon's live performances once I publish my recap of their concert at Rock and Roll Hotel, last Wednesday. With this, however, I want to highlight Kyle's response to the question about whether Typhoon's songs are paradoxical. Because, the songs sound upbeat but actually reflect morbid realities. I think his answer here is exceptional and guiding, evidence that he is someone high school students can and should look up to. Despite all the darkness in his life, there's opportunity to make the most out of it (to cast out the light) and I love that sentiment.

By My Side (Everlasting Life) by Valley Maker

In the last twenty-four hours, I've discovered Yes I Know I’ve Loved This World, an album by Valley Maker; listened to By My Side (Everlasting Life), decided that I immediately needed to buy the album without making it past the first few lines of that first track; woke up at 3AM and re-streamed the song; biked to Union Station; endured four hours of my train ride before deciding that I needed the song in my life again; struggled with spotty Amtrak wireless; and was finally able to listen via the Soundcloud app. All the trouble was worth it.

By My Side (Everlasting Life) had that instant chemistry with me from those first few lines: "When the sun lights up your face/ don't give me time/ don't give me space/ just give me something that I can taste/ like you right by my side". After the opening, there's another three minutes of open and beautiful verses. My feelings about music and my feelings about people operate with similar mechanisms. Personally, I'm never sure how to describe the sensation when I meet someone who clicks and takes my life to a whole new plane, however, this song does a pretty damn good job. I want to feel about someone as passionately as the song describes, but I think I'd settle for feeling about someone the way I feel about the song. It's just that good.

Honestly, I've already purchased the album without listening to anything else. Something tells me I'm in for a real treat and I'll save it for the eight-hour trip back to DC.

Austin Crane is the force behind Valley Maker. Some of you may be familiar with his work already - I know I've had a few of his songs pop into my life before. After recording this album in Columbia, South Carolina, he moved out to my lovely city of Seattle! He'll flourish in that scene.

Listen to By My Side (Everlasting Life) and the rest of Yes I Know I’ve Loved This World on Bandcamp or Soundcloud.

Faultlines by Field Division

I can vividly remember where I was and what I was up to when I first heard music by the Local Natives. Airplanes was streaming at my favorite University District coffee shop, Cafe Solstice. Never before in my life, had I heard anything comparable. I somehow captured enough of the lyrics in my mind to later figure out what the song was. Discovering that song and later all of Gorilla Manor, ended up being one of those charming defining moments that helped shape my music tastes into what they are today.

Upon first listen of Faultlines by Field Division, my mind was yearning to feel the same way as I felt when I first heard Airplanes. There are definitely technical similarities between Field Division and Local Natives, but the common thread between the two is truly how the music makes me feel.

Here's a short list of why I adore this song : the beginning harmonies, the lushy vocals, the scenic descriptions but air of mystery contained within the lyrics, more harmonies, that moment half way through the song where the vibe noticeably darkens, the subsequent build up that actually makes it feel like clouds are moving in for a big storm, the tribal-esque but campfire sound delicately layered in... I could go on and on. When I listen to this song, I have wanderlust for the Southwest and can visualize the rich turquoises and tans in the back of my mind. Considering my drab surroundings at the moment, I find that impressive.

Field Division is a project from Des Moines, Iowa, currently stationed in Nashville, Tennessee, by Taylor Hiatt and Nick Frampton. From what I can tell, this is the only song they've released right now but I'm highly anticipating more.

You can download Faultlines on Bandcamp, Soundcloud and a few other places.

Typhoon and grappling with mortality while living with a chronic illness

(Disclaimer: White Lighter was released over a month ago, on August 20th, but was available to stream two weeks before then. Given that time frame, it has taken me almost two months to write this emotionally-entangled post. I'm still not certain I've done their music the justice it deserves. However, I'm seeing Typhoon live on Wednesday at Rock and Roll Hotel and getting this entry published was a "now or never" feeling". It's overly personal and raw but honest.)

I'm certain this goes without saying -- music has always been one of the biggest emotionally-complex components of my life. A song can be akin to a drug: a stimulant to heighten my feelings in the best of times, a depressant to bring me back down to reality in my more manic-induced moments, or an analgesic to shut down everyone and everything. Most days, I operate with a soundtrack playing in the background.

Kyle Morton, of Typhoon, has managed to write the soundtrack to my most probable "possible death": an ultimate and slow, painful demise from diabetic complications. I never tried or wanted a soundtrack for this facet of my possible future, but with Typhoon, I allowed it.

My mother had crippling depression but I watched her earnestly embrace life, in a way I had never seen, after she lost most of her eyesight and went on dialysis, after also suffering from diabetic complications. Yet, somehow, her own daughter, without any mental illness and an insatiably passion for life, has spent the past seven years living life to the absolute fullest under the impression that life will be over the minute she gets hit with a complication. The past few years have been this surreal whirlwind of adventures, love, connections, and joy. However, I haven't really envisioned a life for myself into my thirties. Every doctor appointment is a harrowing, nerve-wracking experience. Every bad bloodsugar level is a moment of heart-stopping regret. The fundamental part of living with a chronic illness boils down to these panic moments and the anxiety-filled late nights. I have a hard time not letting this define who I am. 

I often ask myself questions.
Is today the tipping point? Is today the day everything changes? 

I discovered A New Kind of House and I couldn't stop listening. Summer Home pulled me in and shook my core. Within the first few lines Morton talks of never wanting to give up but having a body that does. He's holding out for the summer, this promise-land, where the days will be back to normal or over. This was the first wake up call. I can't be the person who doesn't fight. I can't be the person who pleads for the summer, as my days won't return to normal after the "tipping point" occurs. The idea of there ever being a "normal" in the first place is delusional. My only summer, my only promise-land is the end.

There's Honest Truth and with the lines "On my time, oh Lord I've been so blind. But now I see the light below my doorjamb. Hallelujah, it will be gone soon", death almost seems glamorous for brief, fleeting moments. Be relieved that the end is here. However, it's not difficult to hear the regret laced throughout and it makes me hesitate. Claws Pt. 1 is damaging: "We are conceived all with the same chance/ to be spared, to be salvaged, to be kept safe/ then you hope to god nothing bad will happen/ from when you're born 'til you go quietly from old". For some of us, the bad happens, "the great great beast", sooner than we wish. The beast simultaneously claws, reminds us of our fate but also provides some solace, as we know what our fate will be.

 

 If A New Kind of House wasn't stark enough, I listened to Hunger & Thirst a few weeks after. Starting Over describes the common phenomenon among diabetics who "go off the bandwagon" and come back to desperately try to get their bloodsugars well-managed. I start over every single day, where "I've started a new beginning, suspiciously like the old one, only this time I'm ready". Even though I tell myself I'm ready, I never truly am.

 

Typhoon's latest release, White Lighter, transcended all of my high expectations. On the aural front, it's pure, unadulterated, witchcraft. Somehow, the band's twelve individuals sound simultaneously cohesive and entirely jarring together. If only one audio element was removed from this album, it would not have the grandeur it does now.

On the narrative front, Morton continues to explore life and mortality. I have read his insights, published back in June, many times now. It's impossible to be blinded to his brilliance and the wisdom he has gained throughout life while suffering from an illness. I initially never knew his back-story of his development of Lyme Disease while growing up. I was not surprised when I did find out. These words can only be woven together by someone who has experienced the path of gradual death, at a speed possibly faster than the average person.

Possible Deaths is two minutes of morbid bliss. If nothing else, this song reminds me that my notion that diabetes is my sure-fire end is pure folly, as "every star is a possible death".

The hardest part of White Lighter is grasping with love being introduced as a theme. I've always thought of Common Sentiments as the prelude to White Lighter, as thoughts fully flushed out in Prosthetic Love and Post Script creep up here as well. At the end of the day, there's the reality that "you are sleeping together, but you will die alone" Is there a point of exposing vulnerability when the inevitable end won't be any different? I'd like to believe so. I began to think of the end of the song mantra as my own because "I will be good though my body be broken" and someone surely will acknowledge that truth about me but won't give a damn at the same time.

However, never in my life have I had a song describe so acutely my own thoughts with letting go of stubborn independence, as with Prosthetic Love. I think it's how he describes growing attached and learning how to count on a partner, rather than his own fingers, that strikes a chord with me. Is "attachment" a word commonly described with that nervous period of "falling for someone"? Because, it's always the word I use that no one else seems to. Attachment is exhausting, scary and difficult for someone who has a chronic illness. With being so different than my peers growing up, but having a body that could fail me, I never felt right accepting outside help. It spiraled into this possibly-unhealthy streak of fierce independence, where I could only count on my own mind to save me from myself. Is it fair to subject a partner, or anyone else, to the suffering caused by a disease they don't even have? Morton realistically captures depending on and falling for someone else, despite all the misgivings, when you've never really been able to depend on your own body or would expect anyone else to.

If Common Sentiments is the prelude to Typhoon's love story, Post Script is the all-depressing, but tragically pragmatic finale. I'm almost willing to assert the song as the most beautiful and fitting album-ending song out there. No matter what, I can only love within the confines of my chronic illness. In Post Script, Morton describes how he'll do anything and everything to make sure his partner gets the love they deserve. The thoughtfulness cannot be returned. How can someone love the part of an individual that will eventually rip them away? His partner isn't obligated to love him unconditionally, as they would also have to love the disease that will be his downfall. Honestly, I find it fair if someone with a chronic disease will never experience unconditional love. It's the compromise we make for likely being the first to leave.