Mark Kozelek - Lost Verses Live (2009)

fall tonight sweet paris rain

shower me in her warm kisses

Live albums are rarely something that I have the patience for. Usually, a band or musician is best represented on record, and live releases can become an indulgence on the part of the musician, a stopgap between studio albums or a tool to boost sales. In any case, they usually end up being relegated to the bargain bin. There are certain exceptions, of course, where a live album captures the essence of an artist perfectly and becomes essential listening for anyone with a passing interest in their music: think along the lines of Bob Dylan's 'Live 1966' Bootleg Series record or James Brown's 'Live at the Apollo'. Sure, comparisons to those two seem pretty lofty and hyperbolic, but Mark Kozelek's most recent solo outing, 'Lost Verses Live', could quite easily be deemed part of that minority in its own way.

Since discovering him roughly around the time that Sun Kil Moon's 'April' came out last year, Kozelek's work has grown on me to the extent that it now holds its own firm place somewhere in the list of music that I consider personal to me. Stripped down to his own sparse acoustic playing and gently soaring vocals, which resonate here perfectly while retaining a satisfying clarity of sound, the record captures the intense, soul-baring intimacy that lies at the heart of the songwriter's work and makes him so endearing. The tracklist reads like a well-put-together best-of collection of his work in Sun Kil Moon, comprising a large number of songs from their latest full-length 'April' but also a healthy number of songs on previous records, including two songs from his Modest Mouse cover record 'Tiny Cities', an excellent rendition of Stephen Sondheim's 'Send in the Clowns', and a very affecting reinterpretation of the achingly autobiographical Red House Painters classic 'Katy Song' that, through a new arrangement in his more recent fingerpicked acoustic style, lends the song a newfound warmth that makes it a more approachable prospect than the desolate Red House Painters studio version. As such, 'Lost Verses Live' is an excellent and cohesive introduction to Mark Kozelek's back catalogue for people unfamiliar with the man's previous work. Of course, there are flaws here - the track that the record names itself after lacks the drive that the original has, and the applause kicks in strangely abruptly at the end of certain songs - not to mention the omission of the career-defining 'Duk Koo Kim' - but the overall atmosphere of this record is so intoxicating that such complaints seem like minor quibbles.

Mark Kozelek

Something that I have always loved about Kozelek's music, particularly in Sun Kil Moon, is the beautifully warm, aching sense of nostalgia in his music. In terms of better-known artists to reference for newcomers to his style, one other act I could compare Kozelek's more recent work to, in terms of emotional content, is Beirut - aside from having a similar vocal style, both him and Zach Condon share the same affectionate longing for old flames and the same running lyrical fixation on travel and moving from place to place, and the personal significance of certain locations and people in their memories. 'April' in particular was a very intimate tribute to a departed loved one. Songs performed here like 'Moorestown', 'Tonight in Bilbao' and 'Blue Orchids' are great examples of this and are given absolutely beautiful renditions here. For lack of a better word, there's something very mature about his music in Sun Kil Moon which I love: every memory and every image is portrayed beautifully, with a longing fondness for these pasts of his and a warm, understated love for life that contrasts greatly to his more emotionally fraught work in Red House Painters. If you give them the required time and patience, 'April' and 'Ghosts of the Great Highway' are records that can reveal enormous amounts of depth and beauty, and I guess that someday, I'd like to be able to write music that's as warm, intimate and endearing as this.

soft light pours into the room
fingers glide over my face
a voice speaks, a figure moves
how could i walk these old dim halls again
how could i leave this room all alone

when she comes by every morning
brings back pink and pale blue orchids
when she comes by every afternoon
piano music weeps quietly
as may melts into june
when she comes by every evening
lays down beside me softly breathing

-Mark Kozelek; 'Blue Orchids'

Mark Kozelek - Lost Verses Live

2008: Sun Kil Moon - April

Following up from the last entry, here's my other folk favourite from 2008 (well, there's the Bon Iver record too, but you've almost definitely already heard that and there's so much that's already been said about it that posting my own two contrived cents on it would be an utterly pointless exercise.) Sun Kil Moon's April was an odd one last year in that it attracted quite a bit of media attention and, rightfully, got glowing reviews; but it received quite a cold and indifferent reception from most people I know. The most obvious reason I can think of for this is that, unlike certain other records that got really popular in 2008, April requires patience and it's an unfortunate fact that a lot of listeners are lazy. You're probably not going to walk away after the first listen whistling its tunes. Those familiar with Mark Kozelek's work will know that he doesn't like to rush a good record and so to people that have heard his other work it won't come as a shock that the album's running time is in excess of 70 minutes, but to the uninitiated, it's going to require some getting used to. In fact, truth be told, April was my introduction to Kozelek too and it took me about five listens and a good read through the lyrics for its charms to really sink in.

The work was rewarding though. People seem to hold the assumption that April is a depressing record, but I think this couldn't be further from the truth. I mean, sure, it's not something you'd listen to in the company of others, and there are some darker and moodier moments in the album like 'Heron Blue' ("Don't play those violins no more/Their melancholic overtones/They echo off the floor and walls/I cannot bear to hear them"), but there's also a lot of sunshine, something that opener 'Lost Verses' shows. 'Like the River' contains one lyric that really sums up what the record is about: "I have all these memories, I don't know what for/I have them and I can't help it/Some overflow and spill out like waves/Some I will harbour for all of my days". Over the course of the album, Kozelek sifts through old memories and brings them to the surface, from romantic recollections of old flames to fond family memories. The charm of the record is in the sheer affection that he presents these memories with - he sings all his stories with a fondness and warmth that never fails to make me smile. Of course there is a melancholic aspect to it all in that there's sometimes a certain yearning to relive the past, but the record is easy to become quite attached to because of its intimacy.

The musicianship on April is excellent too - the often long and winding songs are carried by deft fingerpicking and, now and then, a tasteful bit of guitar noodling ('Tonight the Sky') or subtle dynamic/tempo shifts that really carry the songs forward ('Lost Verses', 'Tonight in Bilbao'). The album alternates between full band songs like the Neil Young-esque opening epic 'Lost Verses' and more intimate acoustic numbers like the beautiful closer 'Blue Orchids'. And for the trainspotters among you, the record is liberally sprinkled with guest appearances from the likes of Ben Gibbard and Bonnie 'Prince' Billy that aren't too obvious but nevertheless keep things interesting.

Despite all this, April isn't a particularly complex record - like the Pygmy Lush album, it carries a very simple charm in its honesty and warmth. The beauty and the emotional depth of Kozelek's storytelling and the sheer class of the songwriting, however, will ensure that in the coming years, this record will be looked upon as a classic.

I’ve risen up from the dead
With the burning leaves of autumn
If only for one last chance
That all of whom have been defeated
To put on my father’s wool coat
To smell my mother’s fragrances and perfumes
To find my young brothers and sisters
To never leave or let them go
-Sun Kil Moon; Lost Verses

Sun Kil Moon - April

2008: Pygmy Lush - Mount Hope

2008 was a great year for folk. Bon Iver, Bonnie 'Prince' Billy and Sun Kil Moon all released great albums that, to some extent, received a good deal of critical attention. Grouper also generated a modest buzz for her rather lovely album Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill (which I wrote up earlier this year in this blog). One of my favourites, however, went completely under the radar of most publications and music fans, when it matched the quality of even its most hyped musical cousins. Pygmy Lush's background might go some way in explaining this - started by ex-members of DIY hardcore legends Pg. 99, their first record Bitter River was the sound of a band who were still finding their feet, trying to do too many things at once. Featuring forays into folk, Tom Waits-esque songwriting, experimental noise and even vicious and chaotic hardcore, while most of the material on there was at very least solid, the record came across as incoherent, more like a sampler of the various directions the band could have gone in than a cohesive album. Mount Hope sees them fulfilling the potential shown in Bitter River by taking a decisive step into the more mellow side of their sound and releasing an all-out folk album.

The breathy opening lines of the album give away the record's preoccupations: "The asphalt is leaning on me like a mountain/The pressure is building and I'm exhausted/I know you know there is nowhere to go." This weary, melancholic and sometimes even despairing tone surfaces in the lyrics to many of the songs on Mount Hope, resulting in an album which carries its heart on its sleeve and is emotionally very honest, something that gives the record a lot of depth and replay value. Despite this, Mount Hope isn't necessarily a depressing album persay - musically it is very laid back and subtle. Take the slow strumming, harmonica and xylophones of 'Frozen Man' which is lyrically pretty bleak but musically feels like such a relaxing listen. The album has its fair share of excellent and hummable tunes too - take the resigned melancholy of 'Hard to Swallow' or the album opener 'Asphalt'. The album mostly hinges itself around strummed or picked acoustic guitars as one would expect, but it features varied enough instrumentation to not feel too bare. The reinterpretation of Bitter River's 'Red Room Blues' is a real highlight on the album, the band having turned the previous two-minute incarnation into an absolutely gorgeous eight-minute bliss-fest that slowly dissolves into a shoegazing haze towards the end. There are a couple of rockabilly-style shuffles, such as 'Mount Hope' and 'Butch's Dream' thrown into the mix that contribute to the album's flow quite effectively. And, of course, the album ends on a high note with my personal favourite 'Tumor' - an amazing seven-minute number that takes its time, gently working towards its lush reverb-laden climax while its poignant lyrics slowly but surely destroy you from the inside (kind of like the nature of the song's namesake, then...)

With Mount Hope, Pygmy Lush have made a great record that proves that they're not just a bunch of screamo musicians dabbling in folk, but one of the genre's finest practitioners around today in their own right. It's a simple record with simple charms, but spend a little time with it and its personal depth and emotional honesty will, surely enough, win its way into your heart.

you never listen when i'm talking. you're always waiting to hear yourself. well, how am i doing? "how do you feel?" to be honest with you, simply ill. simply ill. simply ill. simply ill. simply ill. i had a tumor. it never healed. it just stayed there. until it killed. until it killed. until it killed. until it killed. until it killed.
-Pygmy Lush; 'Tumor'

Pygmy Lush - Mount Hope

Grouper - Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill

Grouper is the Oregon-based Liz Harris. Noone more, noone less. Over the last few years she has been quietly making a name for herself through her ethereal and haunting songs, shrouded in a thick fog of vocal loops and guitar ambience, akin to perhaps My Bloody Valentine if they decided to ditch their "louder is better" approach and go acoustic. It seems that these days she's decidedly walking out of that fog: here on her latest effort, we have twelve folk songs that shine with a new-found clarity. Liz's stellar vocal harmonies float effortlessly above her gently strummed, reverb-drenched guitars to create something utterly mesmerising. Don't be fooled by the creepy cover art and equally creepy title, there's something about these songs that's beautifully calm and delicate - they lull you into a sense of total serenity where nothing matters but the haunting melodies that drift around in your subconscious. These are folk songs that are as subtle as they are powerful, taking a gentle but hypnotic approach that works its magic slowly but eventually becomes very endearing. "Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill" is the light at the end of the tunnel in musical form.

Buy

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