Sound Strider Goes Further

 

Sound Strider (real name, Sam Waks) is an exponent of ‘intelligent dance music’. His music on this 5-track Intrepid Travels EP (released 5th November 2013) has been couched in descriptions I struggle to understand, electronic music not being something I listen to a lot. I really should listen to more, as some of it appeals to me, whilst other stuff leaves me cold. So, versed only in The Chemical Brothers and some electronica from the 1970s, I approached with interest, the cover art having instantly intrigued me.

What appealed to me, even before listening, are the ideas behind the concept. Electronic ambient sounds fused with psychedelia promises to bring the past and the future together in some sort of mind-expanding hybrid out in space. As for intelligence, Waks has explored worlds beyond reaching oblivion on the dance floor. Spoken word samples and voice effects add another dimension to keep our interest; some discordant notes actually add interest, too.

Going for rhythm rather than melody, I won’t pretend to know how a lot of these sounds are achieved. Loops that don’t get bogged down in endless repetition, synths and samples make up the EP, along with inventive percussion, particularly inventive on Betoniere. With beats driving the tracks along, I could easily run or work out to them.

Waks says he was inspired to make this EP after reading The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. This is an account by Tom Wolfe of the exploits of Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters in the 1960s. This merry band went across America in a gaily painted school bus dubbed ‘Further’, as seen on the cover of the EP, stopping to party with the aid of hallucinogenic drugs and light effects. On the cover, however, the bus is speeding past Saturn. Waks makes the point that Kesey’s movement was a forerunner for the dance parties of today. The tracks have got some psychedelic elements, but it doesn’t invite us to tune in and drop out, so prevalent in the hippie era. It’s more of a stimulant to the senses than an invitation to dream.

Another link to Ken Kesey is the use of one of the track’s titles, namely Menlo Park. It’s surely not a coincidence that Kesey worked as an aide at Menlo Park Veteran’s Hospital, where he also volunteered to participate in studies into certain drugs. Kesey’s experiences as a hospital worker and medical volunteer inspired him to write One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

Opening track, The Stakes, is chock full of ideas. These include  a rocket launch countdown and the speech from President Lyndon Johnson’s infamous 1964 advertising campaign, called Daisy, when he implores the American people to protect their children and vote for him rather than Barry Goldwater, who was gung-ho about using nuclear weapons.

This music is sometimes very complex, as in Childhood’s End (is this title taken from Arthur C. Clarke’s novel?), a complex array of disparate sounds that somehow manage to dovetail together.

Sam Waks has brought fresh ideas to the electronic genre and been disciplined enough to make each track about the right length. He has lived in many places, been involved as a producer and as a DJ and explored many genres before discovering electronic music as a means to express himself. Like a Merry Prankster, he’s on a journey; his destination is ‘further’.

 Soundcloud (https://soundcloud.com/soundstrider/sets/intrepid-travels-ep).


 

 

 

Classic TV Review: The Professionals

It was sad to read that Lewis Collins had died a few days ago (Nov 27) aged 67 following a five year battle with cancer. He was an underrated actor whose career was blighted by his being typecast as the tough guy, the character type that, ironically, made him a household name in the late ’70s. I’m talking, of course, about Bodie of CI5.

I wasn’t yet a teenager when The Professionals and its high octane opening titles exploded onto our TV screens late in 1977 and quickly became must-see action drama. I forget the time it aired – probably 8pm – but it was a show my parents allowed me to watch (bed straight after) and I just lapped up the fast-paced cocktail of car chases, gun fights and punch-ups. Of the three main characters, Bodie was my favourite – hard as nails and yet suave and well-dressed. I remember one Christmas getting an annual as well as a Corgi model of Bodie’s silver Ford Capri 3.0S complete with three tiny figures posing dramatically inside the box.

For those in the dark about the show, CI5 is a fictional law enforcement agency tasked with stopping all kinds of terrorism and threats to the UK. It is made up of highly capable individuals – the elite of the elite, if you will – and the man in charge is Cowley (Gordon Jackson). His two best men are Doyle (Martin Shaw) and Bodie (Lewis Collins). They are obedient to their superior but aren’t afraid of breaking the rules (as well as the law) if it brings results. Their partnership and friendship is symbiotic and with Cowley giving the orders, they are a great team. To complement the show’s action there are humorous moments between the leads and there is also detail in the police procedures although not as much as in many of today’s crime shows.

The show was created by Brian Clemens who was in part responsible for numerous classic TV shows of the ’60 and ’70s including The Avengers, The Persuaders!, The Protectors and The New Avengers. A total of 57 episodes over five seasons of The Professionals were aired between ’77 and ’83 however, the final episode of season one – Klansmen – was never transmitted on terrestrial TV in the UK because of its racial content.

I’ve caught an episode or two of the show over the years and yes, it filled me with a warm nostalgia but this morning, I happened upon an episode on ITV4 being shown as a tribute to Lewis Collins. This time, poignancy made me pay an even greater level of attention to the screen than normal. The episode was the fourth of season one – Killer with a Long Arm. It is about a Greek sniper who travels over from the continent with a mission to assassinate a Greek Royal at the Wimbledon Tennis Championships in order to make a political statement. The pacing of the story is excellent and the tension builds nicely all the way to the rooftop climax. The plot is believable (with the possible exception of the zoom on the sniper rifle scope) and the writing intelligent. There is mention of forensics and the overall, the action is minimal. I seem to remember some episodes being a lot more gung-ho but maybe these came later when the writers may have struggled for ideas. There are some humorous moments too between Bodie and Doyle and so to put it in a nutshell, it is a terrific episode of an exciting show.

Lewis Collins still commands my attention when he’s on screen. He has great presence and his natural manner, which can change from charming and friendly to threatening and brutal in a second, is totally captivating. His onscreen chemistry with Martin Shaw is great too, which probably helped make the show the success it was and one would assume they had an absolute blast while filming. The two actors had previously shared the screen playing villains in a 1977 episode of The New Avengers and creator Brian Clemens, who had already got Martin Shaw on board as Doyle, brought in Lewis Collins on the strength of this previous pairing. I haven’t watched it but apparently Collins’ character in that New Avengers episode (Obsession) signs off with the comment to Shaw’s character, “Maybe we should work together again. We’re a good team.”

Indeed they were. Lewis Collins may have passed away and I’m sure our hearts go out to the loved ones that survive him but the character for which we all recognise and love him, will live on for as long as humans watch TV.

The Savage Beauty of Stoney

Mark Stoney, aka Stoney, is a multi-instrumentalist songwriter whose escalating career has made waves, both in Britain and America. His first full length album, The Scene & The Unseen, gained column inches in major British newspapers and airplay on BBC Radio. Stoney has played at such iconic festivals as Glastonbury, Leeds/Reading and Austin’s SXSW and toured with big names such as the Arctic Monkeys, Athlete and Laura Marling. Some of his previous songs have even appeared in UK and US films and TV programmes. So does his latest release, More Than Animals (January 14th, 2014) live up to expectations? Thankfully, yes.

Stoney plays almost all instruments on More Than Animals and produces too. He has been likened to many artists and genres, but his style is not easily distilled. What shines through is an ear for a rollicking good rhythm, crisp vocals and some of the most expressive, inventive lyrics I’ve ever come across.

He certainly straddles the Atlantic, having originally come from a London suburb, moved to Sheffield, that hotbed of original talent, and finally relocated to Austin, Texas. Whatever he’s soaked up on the way, More Than Animals emerges as his original take.

Some songs have an epic, theatrical quality, with soaring choruses that, for me, rekindled 1980s sounds, as on Sweet Release and The Score, the latter a worthy nod to online casino Gary Numan.  There’s even a hint of musical theatre in terms of melody, albeit with a rock sensibility. But Stoney can be softly delicate too, on the slower, sparser acoustic tracks such as We Belonged, Albatross and Wanderlust. Bittersweet melancholy is part of his DNA.

Devil On My Back is a prime example of his talent for a driving rhythm, this one enhanced by dark lyrics narrating a spiral into despair. Also destined to bring out the beast in you is Round Here, a quiet bit of bluesy slide guitar kicking into hillbilly aggression. Cock of the Walk’s rhythm carries a rant against conforming to mediocrity. Stoney has been compared to David Bowie and The Kinks and that isn’t wide of the mark. However, House of Mirrors reminded me of Steve Marriott channelling his Artful Dodger persona.

Stoney delivers crisp, precise vocals, which is fortunate because his lyrics are so damned good. Often expressing the dark corners of his soul and love’s cruel twists, his arresting imagery is equally adept when loving or when aggressive. And he does express love so beautifully. Listen to Albatross and weep, but We Belonged, if you’ve ever lost someone, will bring you to your knees. A radio-friendly ballad with catchy melody and acoustic guitar, its accompanying video has childhood sweethearts, a wedding, a funeral and a tree motif. Just for my personal taste, I would have preferred the video to be less literal.

The title, More Than Animals refers to a line in Bedpost, about an encounter that shouldn’t have happened, wherein the question is posed, “will you even mark the notch into your bedpost?”, the conclusion being “we’re no more than animals”.

Despite its dark take on life, this is a surprisingly healing set of songs, with a melancholic truth that’s sometimes astonishing.

https://soundcloud.com/stoneystuff

The Ear Worm…

For the last few weeks I’ve had a particular song stuck in my head. I have been singing it to myself constantly. I have been perpetually playing it on repeat. I have become rather obsessed with this song.

This happens to me sometimes, as it does everyone. I once had the theme tune from The Famous Grouse adverts running round and round in my head for about two years. Every time I thought I’d got rid of it, up it would pot again to annoy me.

This isn’t like that. I do not find the fact this song will not leave me alone annoying. I am not being driven mad by it, I am embracing it. I am actually purposefully immersing myself in it. This usually happens to me when something about the song hold meaning, for me at least, and I’m trying to fathom out just what that meaning is.

The Ear Worm

From the first time I heard it, something about it grabbed me and I knew-without really understanding why at the time, for I wasn’t really listening to the lyrics-that there was something about this song that was very important to me.

The song in question is Lady Gaga’s ‘Dope’.

The reason I am finding this song so mesmerising is that there is one particular line which encapsulates a feeling I know very, very well:

‘Been hurting low from living high for so long’.

This doesn’t resonate with me because I have a drug problem, but rather because I have a brain chemistry problem which quite regularly sends me so high that, when I inevitably come down, it hurts.

A lot.

My worst periods of mania are always, always, always followed by a period of extreme depression. This never occurs to me while I’m manic; while I’m manic, nothing occurs to me, I just go about my insane business believing myself to be generally wonderful and, of course, completely invincible. The thought that anything could ever hurt me is inconceivable, yet the very fact I am manic is the prelude to a period of unbearable pain. I know this. Somewhere in my mind I retain this information, even when I’m high. I believe this is part of the reason so many people who suffer from mania refuse treatment while manic, avoid dealing with their mania, and generally will do anything to perpetuate the euphoria rather than allowing themselves to ‘come down’. Because we never just come down. We don’t suddenly find ourselves evening out and feeling ‘normal’ again.

We crash.

Hard.

And it hurts.

Sometimes the crash is so bad it feels like it will kill us.

Sometimes, it does kill us.

I know people who did not make it through the crash. They couldn’t manage the depression. It hurt too badly, it was too much to deal with and (as I have tried to do myself, several times when feeling like this) they took their own lives. This is a sad truth of the bipolar existence; sometimes it literally kills us.

Mania has a lot of consequences, knock on effects that follow you throughout the rest of your life, seeming to punish you for ever having the audacity to give in to the euphoria. Depression has its consequences also, debilitating you, ruining your self-confidence, ruining your body, robbing you of your self-respect and, if you’re not very careful, robbing you of your life.

When we’re neither up, nor down, it is possible to acknowledge these things and understand that the best thing for us is to avoid both states wherever possible. This would seem obvious, surely, it’s a no-brainer, don’t get high, don’t get low, stay in the middle, where it’s safe and you’ll never get hurt by either state.

It’s not so simple.

Not long ago my psychiatrist wanted to switch my MEDs to lithium-based substances, as the mood stabalisers I am on are currently at the highest safe dose and still aren’t curtailing the rapid cycles of my mood. I refused. Lithium, I was told, would even me out. At the time I said I didn’t want to be evened out, I didn’t want to be ‘flat’. I still maintain this is true, however I now think perhaps there is more to it.

The cycles of my bipolar have become such an intrinsic part of my personality that I honestly do not know who or what I would be without it. Would I have the same cynical, sarcastic sense of humour if I no longer felt depressed? Would I still be able to write the way I do, think the way I do, if I no longer experience mania? These are not things I am willing to risk losing, even if the consequence—the depression—and the risks—the possibility I’ll one day successfully kill myself—are so real.

How many people are so sure of themselves, so certain that they are who they were meant to be, that they won’t give it up, no matter the cost? I would wager there aren’t many. I would further posit that this is another gift of this ‘disorder’.

Just Me

This is not to say that I don’t want to get ‘better’, but ‘better’ for me means learning to deal with my moods more effectively, understanding why I react the way I do to certain situations and, perhaps, taming the beast a little. It does not mean eradicating myself. It means acknowledging the fact that I’m still going to feel low from living high, and I need to figure out how to get through that when it happens.

Because it will keep happening.

That’s just me.

And I’m surprised to find that, for the first time in my life, I’m perfectly fine with that.

Norine Braun’s New Roots Album Has Many Branches

Norine Braun

Conventus The Eye Of The Heart is Norine Braun’s ninth studio album. This award-winning artist hails from Vancouver and has assembled musicians from her home city to make this roots blues/rock release. Norine’s lyrics on this latest album (released 8th November 2013) reflect what life has thrown at her during the previous two years, including a life-threatening disease (followed by a cure), marriage to her partner and family bereavement.

She describes her recent life events as “unions and struggles”, with making music a healing activity. So we know from the off that this album is a personal one born out of both pain and celebration.

Musically, other influences come into play to supplement rocking the blues. I imagine her record collection is vast and eclectic. Beginning with Lightning Strikes Twice, it’s the perfect opener, with dirty blues harp and pulsing bass line. I don’t really know why, but all that talk of the Devil made me think of voodoo. How Would We Know has great percussive work and a reggae beat that surprised me, delivering a feel-good declaration of love. Dizzy is a pop/funk track with a spoken part communicating very bawdy sentiments! No More Reprise has a funky groove; this time, a lover is getting his marching orders. Boy has heart-breaking lyrics about giving a baby boy away, building into choruses that reminded me of the anthemic 1980s. The best part of Today is that blues harp – gets me every time.

For me, 99% is the standout track, with powerful words and arrangement meshing perfectly. The 99% are the struggling masses trying to survive and pay the bills. Norine and the band are at their most soulful and there’s that blues harp again. Take the Sleek Train shows off Norine’s extensive vocal range, from husky low register to sweet high notes, as she vocalizes the poetry in wanting to escape on that train, a mournful presence felt in more soulful blues harp. Fire Flames has an interesting fusion of Latin rhythms and rock guitar. Jazzy keyboards and jazz-infused guitar give The Perfect Love Affair a sophisticated, sitting in a cocktail lounge kind of feel. There’s another declaration of love on I Found You, a country style ballad with sweetly melancholic guitar. Conventus ends the album, with a sparse arrangement on the intro’s catchy, simple melody until the band kicks in with a slick pop production. I looked up the meaning of the word, “conventus”; apparently, it’s from the Latin, meaning to convene or assemble.

Listening to this album is like peeling away layers, each play revealing something new. This was my introduction to Norine Braun. It surprised me; I didn’t expect it to be so versatile. It’s good to be surprised.

https://soundcloud.com/norinebraun

 

Monks of Mellonwah Bring Rock From Down Under

rsz_monks_of_mellonwah_press_shot Monks of Mellonwah is an indie rock quartet hailing from Sydney, Australia. Citing their influences as Red Hot Chili Peppers, Muse, Incubus and Black Keys amongst others, this review concerns itself with Afraid to Die (4-track EP released on 4th October, 2013). This release is, in fact, Volume 2 of the band’s debut album, Turn the People, with Volume 3 to follow. The cover artwork shows a young couple holding guns to each other’s heads; clearly, these two are not getting on.

A buzz is building around Vikram, Joe, John and Josh, following tours in their own country and the U.S. and the fact that they have won several awards. Having signed to A&R Worldwide, which handles Muse and Coldplay, their future looks rosy.

We start with the single from the EP, also called Afraid to Die. A driving riff leads us in to a song with an expressive vocal delivery. However, I found the lyrics unduly complicated and difficult to fathom. Track two is Downfall, with a catchy introduction, driving guitars and satisfying key changes throughout. Again, I found the lyrics difficult to connect to. Alive for a Minute has a slower tempo than the first two songs and is more soulful. Once again, I found the lyrics hard to understand. By far my favourite track is the final one, I Belong to You, a rather plaintive and beautiful ballad with a sparse arrangement. Lyric-wise, these are simpler and all the better for it. I’m wondering what we can infer from the words, “needles aside”.

This is thoughtful rock for grown-ups. I would appreciate some more discipline and clearer communication with lyrics but look forward with interest to their future projects.

https://soundcloud.com/monksofmellonwah/sets/afraid-to-die