Number 2 of 2004 — Clara Hill: Restless Times

There’s a little piece of me that really wanted this to be my top album of 2004, but sometimes exceptions have to be made. Instead it takes second place. There’s another little piece of me that briefly wondered if this album is what could have happened in some other universe if TLC had signed to Warp early in their career.

More surprising is that if the iTunes Music Store had launched in the UK earlier in 2004 I would never had discovered this sublime album. Because I found it whilst rooting around on the US store, then bought it on import.

I’m not a fan of R&B, or jazz, or soul. It takes an exceptional record from one of these genres to make me buy it. Restless Times comes from all three and it is indeed exceptional. But first, a bit of history – thanks to Sonar Kollektiv for this information:

Aged 17, Clara Hill founded an acid jazz band named Superjuice with her friend Funès. It was during this time, touring through Berlin that she met DJ Alex from Jazzanova. In 1998 this led her to the producers of Extended Spirit and she sang on a few of their tracks. In the meantime, Clara also sang in another band: Stereoton, mixing hip-hop with jazz. Ultimately, she worked with Jazzanova, contributing a song for their In Between album. Restless Times was recorded with various people from these collaborations.

How best to describe this album? Well, the tiny perfectly formed first track Maybe Now, is hardly electronic. It’s late night jazz, with soothing repeated vocals, harmonies and chilled electric piano. But there’s a hint that it’s not your traditional opener. For Your Love takes this further, adding broken beats, swirling keys and a distinct taste of ‘less-is-more’ (which is probably the main musical lesson to take from this album). Clara’s vocals are the loveliest I’ve heard for years.

But everything comes together perfectly in Silent Distance. It’s this third track which introduces synthesized drums, as a merest hint, and takes the filtered pad technique mainstream. It’s when I heard the second bassline on this song, which comes over the chorus that I began to understand the place where that this album belongs. It turns out that this album is the culmination of intelligent dance music. Most people deride techno as cold. However, anyone whose heard the entire range of such music will know that there can be great warmth and humanity within it. Ironically, it was there when Derrick May, Juan Atkins and Kevin Saunderson first got together to create it. Restless Times plays with repeated vocals – another trait of this album – and adds broken vocals as percussive backing.

The casual listener will think that nothing much happens during this album. Sure, the style is pretty constant and the vocal delivery similar. But the joy is in discovering the nuances in each track that makes it unique, where techniques introduced in one track pop up elsewhere. If you consider the apparently throwaway loop at the start of Flawless (Part 1), for example – by the end it’s at the core of the track. Perhaps this album is as much an intellectual experience as an emotional one.

But listen closer still and things do change: Here is all house music, inspired perhaps by some of Clara’s previous collaborations. One of three danceable tracks. There are also two male singers. Joe Dukie appears on Flawless (Part 2) and Sascha Gottschalk co-wrote and sings with Clara on Morning Star. And I never saw the obvious musical and lyrical connection between Flawless Part 1 and 2 until I came to write this review. Funny.

Ultimately this album is the smoothest thing to come out of 2004. Every single little hook and beat is perfectly placed. Lyrically inspired by life and by nature. The consistency and continuity of each track adds to its value by confirming the impression that this is a grown up piece of work. Not chucked out simply for commercial success. Restless Times is devastating. Listen to Reprise, for example. Or I’m Here:

“I’m here, stay a while and save my life.
I am here, stay a while and make it right.”

Number 7 of 2004 – Seize: The Other Side of your Mind

Seize are another band I discovered on the Belgian Alfa-Matrix label. Started in 1995 by Sandrine Gouriou, and later adding Steven Young, Seize released their debut EP Blades in 1999. In 2001, their debut album Lunacy was released to critical acclaim in all areas EBM. A mix of trip hop and electronica.

The Other Side of Your Mind was released in 2003. Now with Rosie Harris on board, this anglo-french trio took their style more towards breakbeat. Indeed, their website states ‘breakbeat electronica’ on their strapline. With this album, we have a more electronic, danceable version of first-album Kosheen – perhaps their closest comparison.

Musically and lyrically, things are all a bit on a downer. Opening track The Other Side launches with “One single word. Can change everything. Try to make it work. For you and me.” And it doesn’t get any better from there. The crunching dub-break of 100 Years is all obsessive devotion: “I’m locked in a cell. Since the day you left. I won’t try to escape. Just for you I’ll wait.” It’s also a track that exhibits the lovely, exotic nature of Sandrine’s voice, which sounds vaguely eastern european.

Fortunately there are ups. Unbreakable has gated pads which bring the song into trance territory. However, there are thumping bass drums which take the song slightly off the commercial line. That said, the entire album has many aspects which are commercially attractive. Too Good to Be True, my personal favourite, launches with electronic handclaps, moves seamlessly between euro-pop to trance, and successfully takes the band away from it’s breakbeat formulae.

But they really do need to tidy up couple of the arrangements. For example, the awfully amateur synth backing to the chorus of Eyes Water should have been rewritten. And there are songs which simply outstay their welcome. Astute editing of the endings of some tracks would have made this twelve track album more attractive and certainly shorter than its 60 minute running time.

One area that Seize have spot on is intros. They know how to write intros. It’s not simply straight into a song. Seize use intros to set or change a mood, or to introduce elements of a track which get recalled or reworked later. Much like classical music does. There are some delightful melodies hidden away. Similarly, there are inventive breaks and drops. The aforementioned 100 Years diverts briefly from its intentional strident breakbeat backing for a foray into jungle.

Lost in Space has a good example of an intro that takes the listener into a spacey, ambient environment, which after what has gone before it, is a useful trick.

Weird Dreams is one of the two tracks that bring the album to a close. This is full of swirling dubbiness, leading into the beautiful string-laden Who Am I, which is all sad, sleepy, but strangely uplifting. Maybe it’s just me?

Seize have just released the debut album of their O.V.N.I. side project (that’s Objet volant non identifié, by the way), and there’s some shock news that they are now all members of the recently relaunched Visage. Strange indeed!

Number 8 of 2004 — Venus Hum: Big Beautiful Sky

I had this idea that when I was in Canada in May this year, I’d have plenty of time and inclination to complete my top 10 albums of 2004. Unfortunately that great plan never worked out, so I’m sat here on a Sunday early evening, with the Inverness rain pouring down outside.

Venus Hum were one of the first artists I discovered through the iTunes Music Store. Consisting of vocalist Annette Strean and two other guys Kip Kupin and Tony Miracle, they formed in 1999 and judging from their stylistic and musical influences: Kate Bush, keyboards and Depeché Mode respectively, they sound exactly like what you might expect them to. Especially when you consider they were mentored by Larry Tee. This is their full-length debut which was released in 2003.

“Some of my favourite colours in the world / Beat against my eyelids with the blues of green hummingbirds / Some of my favourite colours in the world / Beat against my eyelids with the reds of pink hummingbirds” (Hummingbirds)

Soul Sloshing sums up their quirky yet danceable nature, which could almost be Björk circa Big Time Sensuality, though with a more leftfield musical arrangement. Sonic Boom is similarly pixie-lated. Wordless May starts off ambient folk with synth pads then it all drops away apart from some electro percussion and Annette’s vocals. Later there are more of the synth pads and violins. A song that goes happily from A to B, but never quite in the way you think it should. Which sums up the whole album. It is distinctly individual, and whilst clearly influenced by other artists, it is never obvious or clichéd.

For example, Beautiful Spain comes on like a 60s road race soundtrack, the opening to a James Bond movie probably. Then there’s this gypsy violin break. Where did that come from? In fact, where did the whole of this song come from?

Then there’s the lyrics. I’m quite sure there is some logic to them. But aside from a couple of songs, and individual couplets, there are plenty of missing links. On The Bells however Annette sings about bells. It’s all bells. Bells. Lots of them. Bells. Bells. And we’re heading towards Jane Siberry territory before everything turns into a rather delicious string and synth laden anthem. There’s pure joy in Annette’s lyrics:

“Wading in a sea of lilacs / Praise you in a shroud of violets / Dew is resting on my eyelids / God is smiling now / Wading in a sea of lilacs / Praise you in a shroud of violets / Honey-running through me” (Honey)

Honey is all electro-ballad which then soars off into the sky with swirling pads and great percussion.

In Tori Amos’ book Piece by Piece, she writes about how she constructs songs in such a way to reach a pinnacle of maybe a couple of bars. The rest of the song is the build up, the foundation. I understand this when listening to this album in particular. It’s full of little ‘wow’ bits, with an integrity and individuality that makes it rather endearing.

Number 9 of 2004 — 50 Foot Wave: Bug EP

This is weird: to go back to 50 Foot Wave’s debut in the year they released their first full length album. My feelings for this debut are considerably different from the album because this EP is an important first step.

Bug, the first track, begins the journey from the n^th and last incarnation of Throwing Muses to the fully formed 50 Foot Wave that appears on this year’s Golden Ocean. The final Muses album was an inspired collection of songs recorded over a couple of weekends. The speed of the recording, the songs, the production – they all pointed towards a new direction, recalling the harder albums (such as Red Heaven) but taking the sound into murkier depths.

It was natural therefore that this EP was that first step on that road. Bug sounds like a Throwing Muses song, at least up until the first time signature change and Kristin Hersh’s first vocal. In fact, much of this EP does. Things are turned up a lot louder, the music is simpler, more frantic in it’s most frantic moments. New drummer Rob Ahlers replaces Dave Narcizo’s metronomic military magnificence with a similarly impressive rock backing. I’m constantly amazed by the variation in time signatures and the rhythms. How do they all keep track of what’s happening when? And how does it work live? Extraordinary. This EP is an example of both technical and musical excellence. Bernard George’s bass provides a similar backing to his Muses days, with a bit more grind. And Kristin Hersh’s guitars are everywhere.

Lyrically Kristin is still the same. We have the lines that will have me puzzling over for the next few decades. And we have lines that are exquisitely formed. “Strong women gripe and bite your heavy tongues”. Anyone? Exactly. But then there are little glimpses: “Yes, all right, I can / With sunburned lips I can bitch / About another stupid summer”. Much of Throwing Muses was objective, full of stories, of weird anecdotes, tales of women, and of men. Kristin’s solo work is however becoming increasingly personal and personalised. This EP reflects this transition too.

So, with Bug, we have the best of Throwing Muses, now influenced significantly by Kristin’s solo work, at least lyrically, plus the harder leanings of a woman and of a band who have simply decided to do what they want to do. Which is a pretty compelling reason to listen to 50 Foot Wave.

I can’t resist these ones… One’s a pumping electro-rush, the other is a chilled-out ambient masterpiece, complete with tacky ancient drum machines and organs… and then these synth strings come in.. wow..