Like New #2

Blush Response.

Modern music journalism seems to demand some sort of depth, background or fabrication of some kind in order to induce an attentive, lasting response, particularly with the high volume of free music currently on the internet. Concentration has become ephemeral, even insatiable.

Why can't music stand alone? Frequently, an artist will be unnaturally grouped within a movement, so why is it this supposedly more engaging than something solitary? Perhaps we find the idea of people working together in a tight-knit group more interesting. Or perhaps it is used as a tool to rope us in, keep our interest beyond the end of an album, EP, or even a singular song? Like New will today focus on response, both as an artist and as a listener.

Bad Temple
http://www.myspace.com/badtemple

There's something romantic, idealistic, but ultimately humanistic about the idea that music can be made within an isolated, bucolic environment. But is music like this more soulful or genuine than that which is made within a sprawling urban environment? Certainly it must affect the pace at which things are undertaken, such is the case of Bad Temple, who reside in Krumsville, a small sleepy town within rural Pennsylvania alongside the old Route 22. This music feels solitary, at times desolate, yet inspired and at ease.

Bad Temple is essentially Holly Bolger (with assistance from Kyle Page), who records stunning yet simplistic piano songs in her basement. There is no overarching back-story. Bolger is not part of a larger movement as such, and lives in relative isolation. This is the stuff of romance. Bad Temple will not appeal everyone: these are mesmeric compositions with a sense of space and depth of feeling at times reminiscent of Claude Debussy, but at the same time are simplistic as church songs sung on a Sunday evening.

At times the recordings (originally issued on cassette) clip and distort; at other times they are as clear and delicate as glass, with pin-sharp precision in Bolger’s high sonorous howl. These distortions do not detract from their efficacy; on the contrary, they give a sense of humility – yet Bolger has even expressed a desire to re-record the whole of “New Blood” in complete clarity.

We will hopefully be hearing a great deal more from Bad Temple. But then, it is equally possible Bolger will continue to play and record in her basement and be entirely content to do so, regardless of our attentions.

Sean McCann
http://www.myspace.com/thosesaints

Sean McCann (of San Francisco) is not new on the scene as per se, but after all, the ‘scene’ to which he is most familiar is within the insular confines of the ambient/noise/drone bracket. Unlike the relatively well-known Christian Fennesz for example, who has collaborated and expanded his vision beyond this circumscription into other genres, the majority of ambient experimentalists exist like academics – known to each other and their target audience only, outwith the mainstream, furthering each others’ ideas in a discourse of quiet introspection.

McCann is prolific in his output, much like the slew of artists gifting free albums to those who seek them out on the internet. So by the time I have got around to giving some attention to his very special release Midnight Orchard, there is already new material available. His albums are available on limited runs of exquisitely designed cassette tapes (at a small price), an alternative to the physically-formless digital method (many are downloadable for free on his website).

One can discern an unequivocal folk influence on Midnight Orchard, as with many of McCann’s releases. But this inference is slightly misleading, as it is not necessarily perceptible through the obvious folk principles; the swathes of violin and cello melodies seem to suggest something spiritually akin to folk - insouciant, unaffected by modernity, persistent in their vitality. This use of instrumentation is perhaps comparable to Terry Riley’s sprawling compositions with piano or saxophone. There's a tentative air of expectation, an exposition of transient ephemeral beauty, prone to sudden silence, or death. With such a wide ranging palate of sounds, using folk and synthesised instruments equally, he makes visceral ambient music that sounds freshly organic and endlessly exciting.

Black Eagle Child
http://blackeaglechild.com

Black Eagle Child is Michael Jantz, whose picked guitar melodies loop and reverberate within shimmering synthesizers and field recordings. Friendly with Sean McCann, Jantz also favours the cassette tape format, and is also intensely productive – just have a look at his online discography.

Jantz lives and records at his home in Milwaukee, and the recordings seem to reflect these surroundings musically, perhaps an immediate response to being within those parameters. One can hear something pastoral in his sound, but also literally when field recordings surface from beneath the sonorous melodies. At other times, he allows the caverns of reverb to envelop the sound, pairing drones with ambivalent euphony.

On the Black Eagle Child website, Jantz has devoted a section to trading his own music:
“If you're have a CD, CDR, or cassette of your own music (or other people's!) that you
are willing to send me in exchange for a BEC release, send an email to blackeaglechild AT gmail DOT com. Trades are welcome 'round these parts. If you are seeking anything from the Black Eagle Child discography that is out-of-print, I am always more than happy to make a single CDR edition of the release for trade.”

Yet another great artist, yet another reactive response to the digitalised world of music. These are methods aligned with feelings we thought we had lost – discovering, trading, sharing, all for the sheer joy of music. This backlash can only be positive – who will deny the quality of the feeling when a new, physical piece of music paraphernalia drops through their mailbox? Value has changed, and people adapt. It’s encouraging to find such selflessness in an increasingly selfish market.