A Return & A Review

I can't believe it's been a year since I've last posted! A post of all the happenings in between will come later. But mostly it's been this: I changed my name to Heather Storey because I met a really awesome kid and we want to hang out together all the time for the rest of our lives! Hip Hip Huzzah!

For my triumphant to blogging, I've chosen a really spectacular album to be released on Tuesday and my review to go with it.


Laura Veirs is a truly spectacular musician and this album is a little more rockin' than her previous ... 8! But it's so good. So intelligent and a great palate cleanser, in case you thought most of the music being made these days is self-absorbed and lame.

Tuesday marks the release of Laura Veirs’ ninth album, Warp & Weft on her own Raven Marching Band Records. Written during her second pregnancy, the album is, as Veirs says, “an exploration of extremes -- deep, dark suffering and intense, compassionate love.” There is an upfront simplicity to the album that is endearing and attractive. Veirs’ generally raw and imperfect vocals are much more polished on this album, but still have significant lightness contrasting to the craft and presence of the rest of the instruments that give it interest and credibility. It’s the craft and intelligence of this album that are most astonishing.

A prolific musician, Veirs is joined by other giants of indie folk fame on this record – Jim James (My Morning Jacket), kd lang, Neko Case (The New Pornographers) and Brian Blade (The Fellowship Band and studio jazz drummer) amongst them. Together they create a tapestry of sounds and colors blurring the lines between Veirs’ thoughtful lyrics and the inventive instruments surrounding them. The album’s title comes from a weaving term referring to the two kinds of threads used to create a piece – the warp being the stronger, horizontal threads that form the framework for the whole and the weft being the lighter vertical thread that creates the color. Which part of the album is the warp and which is the weft is up for debate, but what’s certain is there is an intricacy in design and a continual balancing of sounds and themes.

Characteristic of Veirs’ music, Warp & Weft prominently features instrumental breaks in nearly every song and one track (“Ghosts of Louisville”) is only 29 seconds of instruments and wordless voices. The opening track of the album will be familiar to anyone who’s walked into a Starbucks recently as “Sun Song” has been on regular play and showcases Neko Case’s recognizable voice in the background. The album then moves from one up-tempo tune to another, but this time “America” is characterized by lower guitar tones and darker lyrics. The sounds of this track are striking as well – organs, distorted guitars, keys, and some choruses as well. The third track is a tribute to Howard Finster – an American folk artist and Baptist minister whose mission was to spread the Gospel through his paintings and garden museums. He’s come to be also a pop icon for his collaborations with R.E.M. and the cover art for their Reckoning album. The Veirs’ tune “Finster Saw the Angels” is a simple & beautiful reflection on Finster’s life and work – tender and honest it asks “Finster saw the angels, why can’t I? Oh, Hand of Love, come guide me.” The track has strong blues influences, with a great breakdown in the middle, that hearken to Finster’s southern background. The album again takes a darker turn in “Dorothy of the Island” where Veirs’ reworks Clapton’s “Motherless Children” as the chorus lamenting “motherless children have a hard time when mother is dead,” especially poignant as Veirs’ was pregnant with their second child at the time. In the seventh track, “Say Darlin’ Say,” Veirs’ vocals finally take a prominence and clear leading, appropriate with the simple structure of the tune, but it definitely opens up and rocks out, ending with a grand deconstruction of all the sounds where literal bells and whistles hearken back to a wild west landscape. And there are handclaps. Who doesn’t love a good handclap section? The album closes with a swinging jazz tune reminiscent of some of Solomon’s words of wisdom “Even in the lean times/I take pleasure in the wind chimes//and in the moments of excess/I try not to overdo it.”

In a world where so much music produced talks only of personal feelings, momentary crises or sheer nonsense, it’s invigorating to listen to Veirs’ songs of real people, legends outside of herself, and universal existential musings. In a genre typified by cynicism and self-interest, it’s refreshing to hear an honest, humble voice. From a purely musical standpoint, the production of Warp & Weft brought to the table by Veirs’ husband and longtime collaborator Tucker Martine is of the highest quality. All the sounds are pure and crisp, even the distortions are delivered well and not compromised. The structure of the songs is traditional, but the sounds and themes are unusual and twisted. This is a very intelligent album and a pleasant surprise.

By the way, Veirs’ & Martine’s son, Oz was born on May 2^nd.

The Lumineers - Carriers of Light, Stompers of Feet

the Denver-based trio is hand-clapping & foot-stomping
their way into hearts

Even though Cleveland can't seem to make up its mind, I truly believe summer is on its way. Sunshine can only be denied for so long before eventually winning the war against the oppressive unicloud.

With that in mind, I have a great summertime band for you this week. This band has literally kept me up at night with its goodness. I was laying in bed, already several hours past my bedtime, perusing the NPR music app (a must-have for any iPhone/smartphone user) trying to figure out what music I wanted for my dreamscapes when I came across a performance of The Lumineers at KEXP. The subtitle reads "Heartfelt Energy and Musical Grace." It seemed sincere enough, I had to check it out. Plus the photo is the band standing goofily between library stacks. I was hooked from the first note out of them. They're a little bit folk, a little bit rock, a little bit bluegrass, a whole lot of heart. If you know Mumford & Sons or The Head & The Heart, this band is what would result if the two had a child. The Lumineers feature prominent vocals, but driving drums with piano and guitar filling in the fairly sparse arrangements plus a healthy dose of cello & mandolin. The tunes are catchy and the lyrics are poetic and compelling.

The Lumineers' story is one of "stubborn hopefulness" as two of the members, leader Wesley Schultz and Jeremiah Fraites, moved from New York/New Jersey to Denver, CO with a car full of instruments and hearts full of sorrow after losing a friend & brother to a drug overdose. Like any good story, hardship has bred victory and strength. Once in Denver, the boys put out a call for a cellist and the duo became a trio with the addition of classically-trained local Neyla Pekarek. Together the three create music characterized by vulnerability, heartfelt emotion and a commitment to honest optimism, which is pretty refreshing in a world filled with conflict and ever-lessening faith in humanity.

With lyrics like "you told me I was like the dead sea/you'll never sink when you are with me," they're more than just a foot-stomping, hand-clapping good time, too ... even if their intonation/pitch & balance leave a little to be desired.

If these kids continue in the trajectory they've currently set for themselves, we're talking second-star-to-the-right-and-straight-on-till-morning for them. And it seems that they're willing to take you with them. You want this album. Trust me.

a small lesson of the difficult type

So I made the mistake today of going back through my published reviews on RELEVANT. I didn't think it was a mistake when I made that choice. And I suppose it wasn't really a mistake until I decided to go all the way and read the responses to the albums. Turns out, I don't think the same things other people think. Lots of people got upset with my reviews and thoughts. Especially the one for Florence + the Machine. Whooee! And even though that one seems to garner the most negative feedback, I am pretty sure I still stand by my take on it. And I'm proud of that. I just hope I stand by it because I actually do and not just as a defense mechanism. I think it's because Florence fans tend to be pretty die hard, and the same for my most recent review of the new Miike Snow album.

The specifics aren't particularly important at this point though. What is important is the overall lesson I am learning here. You really can't please everyone. Sometimes you really can't even seem to please anyone. But if you (and when I say "you" what I am really trying to say is "me" or "I") do things with an intent to please people and not out of your own personal conviction, you open yourself up for all sorts of emotional attack - even when people aren't actually attacking you, but daring to disagree. Even if you do things with personal conviction, contrasting opinions can rock your conviction enough. I suppose this is why Shakespeare (it was him, right?) said "To thine own self be true." If you are true to your own self, even if no one else is on your side, at least you have yourself. But if even you betray yourself, you will find yourself quite alone ... even if other people do find themselves on your side. You are not even on your own side! Ack!

So as a lesson to myself I am telling myself that I am allowed to say whatever I want in my reviews - I can gush about its brilliance or lament its shortcomings - but the most important thing is that I believe what it is I am saying.

I'm hoping that's what I have done already, but I am now making a note to myself to be sure to do that intentionally every time from here on out.

Have any of you had to learn this lesson yet? How have you dealt with it? Thought about it? Approached it? Effectively implemented it into your life? What other hard lessons have you had to learn?

Loud Old-School Rock from Indiana to Nashville

*Obligtory sincere apology: It’s embarrassing, really, how many times I’ve intended to write this post about this band. Sometimes, for whatever reason or array of reasons, your greatest intentions don’t quite come to fruition and this is one of those cases. Until right now. My apologies for the delay – to you, readers, and to Kyle and Modoc.*

I only associate myself with cool people. Maybe that’s not entirely true, but I really like to think it is. Isn’t that sort of the tendency of all of us? To align ourselves with the people who are doing things we respect? This post is about a gutsy adventure one of my oldest friends has been on for several years now.

My old buddy, Kyle (the dapper gelled fellow in the photo), is an outstanding musician. Although he is of a very different vent than myself, I respect, admire and am insanely jealous of what he does. Back in high school, he used to be in a band of other friends of mine called Father Blue Eyes. I was maybe their biggest non-related, non-dating fan. I went to every show imaginable (distance notwithstanding) and brought brownies with me. They were great guys, a good band and wicked fun times. After FBE, Kyle joined a group called Modoc – so named for a small town in East Central Indiana. This is his current adventure. The four boys that make up Modoc and their families made a bold move, picked up their comfortable lives in Indiana and moved down to the bustling music center that is Nashville, TN. It’s my impression that they’re doing very well – at least that’s the vibe I get from their latest album.

Last September, the quartet released a second serious album called Fortune & Fame. I could hardly be more proud of them. And that’s not even just because I know the guys – I’m oftentimes harder on my friends than strangers. Fortune & Fame is a solid old-school rock and roll album. My first thought when I put this album in my car was “They still make music like this? It still exists?” It’s an aggressive album with loud, distorted guitar, serious bass, edgy vocals and lots of cymbals.

The opening track is the ballsiest for sure, with an acappela quartet chorus – and it probably falls the shortest for me. Tough to start an album with the weakest track – and that’s the sort of decision that I think comes with experience – but to attempt it is a move I respect. It moves seamlessly into “Giving In” – a solid, loud, garage band tune with a great back-of-the-beat groove.

The third track on an album is almost always my favorite track. It’s uncanny how often this happens and “Mother Mary” is indeed the track that strikes my ear the most every time. It opens up with a Red Hot Chili Peppers darkness and guitar sound, but has a great feel to the chorus, almost late-Beatles-esque in its feel. It’s a tune I wouldn’t mind getting stuck in my head, or being caught singing walking down the sidewalk.

Several of the tracks have that dual identity – they begin with one feel and have a point where they switch or break in the middle. The band does it well and quite convincingly – it shows a lot of ability and repertoire for different styles and sounds. “Coward” is another one that stands out in this respect. It’s got a little Charlie Daniels Band to it, but then breaks into something a little softer, too. I would caution the group against doing this for every track. It will eventually lose its charm. Part of why it works is because they go to some pretty unexpected places.

The title track is another serious rock tune. Great guitar licks that builds well. Almost formulaic, but it works. Really well, too. The lyrics are hard and reflect the life of the normal musician – hours spent on the road, away from family, toiling for something that seems to give so little back, one has to take joy in the labor of one’s sunk. The album's closer, "Penance" is a beautiful anthem to a broken relationship.

Overall the sound and songwriting is still young, but the band shows a lot of potential – they have all the basics down solid, the style is great, the balance on Fortune & Fame is brilliant and as individual musicians they have it all together. What lacks is a little bit of solidity and sense of settling into their identity that comes with age, experience and time. Modoc has a smart respect for solid musical influences. What they need to find now is the balance between creating their own sound and stealing what works from other artists. It’s going to take time and a lot of experimentation trial-and-error style. But I’m going to tell you this – I won’t be surprised if you hear about them from somewhere other than me. Rumor has it they just recorded a track for Twilight soundtrack consideration.

Their website is: http://www.modocmusic.com. Check it out, spin some of their tunes and keep up with these guys. If you can see them live, DO IT. I remember when they were a baby group, they put on one of the most enjoyable, high energy shows I’ve been to. Live, loud performance is where they excel. And they’ve got families, so support them.

*Photo taken from band's website.*

Got a Smile in my Heart and it Spread to my Face

This week’s spotlight band has been on my radar for a long time, actually; but only recently did I break down, purchase their album and fall in love. I can’t tell you exactly when I first heard of Vampire Weekend because they seemed to blow up everywhere all at once, and now they're a college/young adult musical staple. If you know only one of their songs, it’s probably “Holiday” featured on a Christmas-time Target commercial, if I remember correctly, and frequently heard over the Muzak of Starbucks, Abercrombie and other such fine commercial establishments. It may have been this association with the college crowd (especially the fraternity scene) and the commercial explosion of the band that gave me such cause for hesitation, but I tell you what: they are a quirky bundle of fun, and that is not limited only to clean, drunken white collar delinquents as I had previously thought. Their songs are ridiculous with lots of “bloops and bleeps” in the background, as one of my friends complains and have predictable, but peppy beats. I never really know exactly what they’re saying in their lyrics; it could be Spanish for all I can tell, but I never really care either. It’s just plain fun, guaranteed to put a smile on your face. I took them with me when I ran my first half-marathon the other weekend (like how I just dropped that in there?) and if asked, I would give them a good deal of the credit for my successful crossing of the finish line.

Despite the mumbling and generally carefree spirit of their music, a song called "Oxford Comma" from their self-titled debut album, betrays the band's Ivy League roots. The four members of Vampire Weekend met and formed the group in 2006 while students at Columbia University. Things progressed rather speedily after that, signing to a label in 2007, releasing their first album in 2008 and a chart-topping follow-up album in 2010.

I’m listening to their second album Contra right now, as there’s a great fall rain happening outside; and the album still seems appropriate. I almost feel like there’s a private joke between my iPod and me that we are not letting the weather in on. There’s a smile growing warm in my heart and it’s thanks to Vampire Weekend. Have a long drive ahead? Not looking forward to a weekend of cleaning the house? Need to do some working out? Take these kids with you.



Photo credit: Søren Solkær Starbird

To Remind and To Remember

*Preface: My apologies for missing last week. The concert season has started for me, requiring the occasional Thursday evening rehearsal. This makes for unusual/impossible office hours.*

I have three really fantastic roommates here in Believeland. Two of them just got married this summer and moved into our humble abode. Let's talk about crazy: Newlywed couple + 2 single post-grad school girls = recipe for disaster and epic b-list sitcom. Add some Jesus to that, and specify the people involved and you have a recipe for hilarity and grace. It is so wonderful to live here. The other swf in my house does not always share my taste in music, but J & A frequently do. Today's post is dedicated to them because they love this week's band, and although I had been aware of Sleeping At Last for several years (since junior year of college or so?), they've gone relatively unnoticed, unlistened to and unappreciated. As prone as I am to a lifestyle of hermitage and solitude (as an awkward, but important conversation with a formerly-good-friend has just addressed), it turns out that Life was meant to be lived with people and is always better (though also more difficult) with them in it. We can't all be aware of everything all the time. Sometimes we need each other to point out things that are good or beautiful in the every day. Sometimes we need to be the ones to point them out.

Sleeping At Last is actually just one man named Ryan O'Neal. The intimacy and oftentimes spacious arrangements in the music betrays the one-manness (I think I just made up that word) of the band, but I was still surprised to learn that the powerful song-writing and poetic lyrics come from just one head. Sleeping At Last hasn't always been just one man; it started as a full-sized garage band out of the greater Chicagoland area and has organically transitioned into O'Neal's solo project. You can more of the story here.

Sleeping At Last's most ambitious project to date, the "Yearbook" EP Project has just this month come to a close. O'Neal challenged himself to continuously write music for an entire year - enough to produce three new songs every month. And he was serious enough about his challenge to put his money where his mouth was - inviting listeners to subscribe to the Project and promising to deliver three complete new tunes at the dawn of each new calendar month. Though Sleeping At Last has become a solo project, O'Neal did not endeavor to complete the project all on his own - he had frequent guest collaborators from Jon Foreman (of Switchfoot - who just released their newest album this week - and Fiction Family) to Katie Herzig (who also just released a new album) to Paul Von Mertens (Wilco). Delivering even more than his promise, O'Neal collaborated with visual artist Geoff Benzing to pair gorgeous paintings as cover art for each EP. The whole project is a labor of beauty: beautiful sounds and beautiful visuals. It would be similar to me deciding to learn and record all the Barrett Grand Etudes (*Nerd alert*) while in conservatory and then ask one of my colleagues in the school of visual art or art & design to paint accompanying scenes, or one of my ballet friends to choreograph an accompanying dance in the style of each etude, or a poet friend write some lyrics for them. It was this kind of collaboration of the arts that has always intrigued me about art school and the idea of arts colonies and artist fellowships. I also think it's this kind of collaboration that, when invested in, will keep the arts alive in our culture. The arts I think will always have a way of being relevant and surviving, but I think, especially in an arts-hostile culture like the 'States. But here's the difference between Sleeping At Last's "Yearbook" project and my Barrett etude senior thesis: People want to hear his. It is high quality and aurally palatable.

O'Neal's music is piano driven with soaring vocals whose tonal quality is simultaneously deep and floaty. It is a little bit of an acquired taste - in a way not dissimilar to Radiohead. His voice is sometimes reminiscent of Rufus Wainwright in the lilting lines and chosen harmonies. The lyrics are poetic and the orchestrations are oftentimes quirky and sometimes cinematic. I liken Sleeping At Last to a forward moving, hopeful version of The Album Leaf. This is beautiful music for: rainy nights when your heart is content to beat to the rhythm of the raindrops, autumn afternoons or snowy mornings - apparently times involving something falling from the sky. Sleeping At Last might just fall into that category of elusive music that you listen to when you need to be reminded that sometimes Life really is just beautiful, even if difficult.

I chose this video because this is the song to which A, one of my roommates, walked down the aisle. It's beautiful, just like her.
If you want to check out a couple other songs I like, look for "All This to Say" and "Unmade" specifically.

Serendipitous Sweethearts

Gotta' send a shout out to my friend James for this week's post. He's the one who really got me into She & Him. I had heard of them from RELEVANT magazine (their July/Aug '09 issue) and their podcast, but it was James who really made me listen to them. So, thanks James. My world ... and now your world, dear readers, is a little bit brighter.

You know Zooey Deschanel? Buddy the Elf/Will Ferrel's love interest in the new classic Christmas movie Elf? And you know that scene where she's singing "Baby, It's Cold Outside" and Buddy joins her? Well, that's really her singing! Amazing! And even more amazingly, she's recorded some non-Christmas music on actual albums so you can enjoy her dulcet tones and pick-me-up pep shamelessly, year-round. (Though I myself am not one to hang my head at playing a little Christmas music in or around July.)
Deschanel teamed up with M. Ward to form a serendipitous super-duo called She & Him whose upbeat songs with guitar, tambourine, hand-claps and old school background vocals is reminiscent of the long-gone torch singer, crooner or Carpenter days. Her voice even sounds a little like Karen Carpenter's, but a little bit more vibrant, and just as sweet as her face. The sound is not terribly complex, but chock full of positive energy and a nearly-lost art form of happiness.

You've probably heard a few of their tracks in various movie soundtracks, commercials or scoring your shopping trips to places like Target or Kohl's. Nevertheless, it's always a treat. Their sound is approachable and accessible and sure to bring a smile to your face.

This has been a tough week for me and smiling/happiness has been difficult, but I can't help myself when I listen to these tracks from She & Him. So great!

I know the video is a little dark, but I just love this song.

Ben Sol'ful'ee

We begin again with a note of celebration: I have now officially lived in Cleveland for one year! Labor day marked one year exactly that I worked my job and lived in my house of joy! Hooray! (By the way, that 'note' pun was totally unintentional. Love it? I do!)

This week's featured artist is one I have wanted to introduce you to over and over again, but the time just hasn't been quite right. And honestly, I'm not sure that the time is right now either, but I just can't wait any longer. I simply MUST tell you about him.
His name is Ben Sollee and he is actually a classically-trained, "genre-bending" cellist from Kentucky. I don't know how all of these things happen at once in one person, but I am pretty certain he's the only one of his kind. Probably because he defines his kind. I'd also like to mention he toured with Abigail Washburn and Bela Fleck as part of The Sparrow Quartet. This kid is awesome. Read his bio.

What his music sounds like: Jack Johnson, John Mayer, John Legend, Bob Marley, Ray LaMontagne, a one-man-tongue-in-cheek-Avett-upbeat-black-sheep-brothers, Sufjan Stevens, Abigail Washburn ...
He's got vibraphone, bells, violin, cello, drumset, trumpet, harp, mouth harp, fiddle, guitar, banjo ... it's ridiculous. He's ridiculous. Seriously. Seriously ridiculous.

His lyrics are not natural or smooth, sometimes the rhymes are forced (or he gives up on the rhymes completely), but they are honest, transparent, poignant and true. No poetry mostly, but very good prose. On the same album he's ask you if you're "strong enough bend" and then ask you to "bury [him] with [his] car." And as he's grown as an artist [and human] his songwriting has also matured.

Especially in this politically-charged atmosphere (I type this while Obama's speech is happening on t.v.) his song "A Few Honest Words" is a sincere charge from a generation asking politicians to speak straight about the current state of things and to make legitimate, effective decisions. Listen to it and tell me he shouldn't flash-mob all the political conventions and campaigns with it.

If you're gonna' lead my country
If you're gonna' say it's free
Gonna' need a little honesty//
Just a few honest words
It shouldn't be that hard
Just a few honest words
Is all I need//
I don't need no handshake
Or firm look in the eye
Don't tell me what you think I ought to hear ....

I wonder what would happen if someone like Passion Pit did a remix of it actually ... hmmm.
*Edit: After a little bit of research, I found someone actually did remix the song with quotes from Obama's campaign. But I won't give you links, because I don't think they're that good. Passion Pit could do a better job.*

There is an ease and simplicity in his music which would seem to be influenced by his Kentucky roots and an earnestness and frankness in many of his lyrics betraying an East Coast/artistic influence. And he manages the natural conflict of the two cultures and lifestyles so smoothly, probably because they are legitimately, peaceably dwelling within him.

Evenings when you feel generally content, a good Saturday morning cleaning, or a Sunday morning spent sitting is probably when you want most to listen to this music. Take him camping with you. Buy all his albums. Every time I pull him up on my iPod again, I regret not having bought all of his albums at once.

This video is long, as it's the entire NPR Tiny Desk concert, but this is maybe my favorite Tiny Desk they've ever done. The perfect environment/space for it.



P.S. No one comment about the hair ...

Image credit: I don't know, I swiped it from this website.

Dark, Cynical and Impossibly Honest

Most exciting things first: I found out Monday that I have been added to the music review team at Relevant Magazine! Hooray! Celebrate with me! As the oboe and I have been fighting a lot recently, I am hoping this ends up being the first step in a new direction.

Okay, let's get down to business (to defeat the Huns).

Remember last week how we talked about the Muppets and their sweet reminder in a world of cynicism, sarcasm and meanness? Well, this week we're diving straight into that cynical, sarcastic mean and rocking world of Elizabeth and the Catapult. I was first introduced to Elizabeth and the Catapult by Relevant, actually, so this fitting. I heard the song "Race You," fell in love with its youthful spirit and energy and decided I needed to buy the album. I won't say I regret purchasing the 2009 album, but that happy tune is certainly the anomaly. The rest of the album is dark and riddled with tongue-and-cheek observations on life. The title track "Taller Children" is actually an idea that continues to strike a deep chord with me, as it talks about the similarities between being a child and being an adult - that we never actually seem to grow up, only taller - but it doesn't take a light-hearted grace-filled approach to this idea. Nevertheless, I like the song and the idea ... I just try to put my own optimistic spin on it. "Momma's Boy" and "Perfectly Perfect" (from the bonus track edition of the album) are uptempo, fun standouts, in spite of their lyrics. "Momma's Boy" laments the plight of many older, single and (perhaps) slightly bitter women saying "if you want a girl to be your mother, go find another one." And "Perfectly Perfect" is a carnival ride through the paradoxes existent in our own lives with its opening line of "I'm just so perfectly perfect, except when I'm not."
The album also has its share of sweet and beautifully arranged songs. "Gold Ink" is one such with wistful lyrics "I have just begun to work my magic, but it seems as though it's lost at sea" and "Just in Time" is a sincere love song whose sound is slow and swimming, creating the feeling of being suspended in a moment of reflection.
"Hit the Wall" is a powerful Adele-esque number. And in general the whole album has a similar feel to Adele - strong and soulful. Although dark, Elizabeth and the Catapult is authentic and completely honest. She/it/they are a great addition to a music library that already contains Adele, A Fine Frenzy, Feist, Florence and the Machine or other strong female singers. The lyrics are strong poetry and the accompanying music is solid and multi-genred. But don't start with Elizabeth. She's a second or third step, rather than a first.

This video is a live performance of one of my most stand-out songs on the album, "Everybody Knows." It is soul and blues at their best. On the album, there's stomping; in the performance it's a kick-drum. The opening is stark with just the beat and the vocals: a perfect compliment to the stark lyrics. "Everybody knows that the war is over. Everybody knows that the good guys lost." It's heavy & effective.

Most Sensational, Inspirational, Celebrational, Muppetational

Tuesday marked the release of The Green Album. Let's be honest, this review is just a formality. I love the Muppets. I have always loved the Muppets. I am most definitely going to tell you to go out and buy a Muppet tribute/revival album. But when you put some of my favorite artists on the album, like OK Go or Andrew Bird or Rachel Yamagata, I am even more enthusiastically going to tell you to buy it. And yes, I did pre-order the album. And I'm proud of it.
Robin Hilton also writes a lovely review of the album on the NPR First Listen blog; with which I happen to agree a great deal.
But here is my not-even-pretending-to-be-objective view on this collaboration: Love it!
The album kicks off, and I mean really kicks, with OK Go playing The Muppet Show theme. I think the Electric Mayhem would be proud of their loud and distorted take on tune. And when I think about it, OK Go just might be the real world's Electric Mayhem. Almost. Next up is Weezer + Hayley Williams (Paramore) doing Rainbow Connection. This one is a little tricky for me. That song is a classic and much beloved to me, Kermit the Frog being my dream, er, frog and all. They do it fair justice, though. There's not much playing with the arrangement, I'm not a fan of the vocal colors, but it's still a great song. Maybe the most surprising track is The Fray singing "Mahna Mahna." I had no idea who was singing when I first heard it, and when I checked in with my iPod I was so surprised! It's hard for me to hear The Fray singing this ridiculously catchy song (over and over in my head) and then try to also hear them singing "How to Save a Life." There's an extended instrumental part in the song which doesn't make much sense if you don't also picture the sketch from the show in your head at the same time, but I have repeated this track more than once. The Alkaline Trio does a fantastic version of "Movin' Right Along" which ought to be on any mixed tape you give a friend who moves away or for any road trip. It's on this track that I start to try to picture these bands seriously entering a recording studio, which is no cheap ordeal, to record tracks from The Muppet Show. Did they start to question their legitimacy as artists? Did they have a great time? Is it a dream they've finally been given permission to live out loud and proud? American rockers My Morning Jacket perform "Our World" with which I was completely unfamiliar, but is reminiscent of John Lennon to me, actually. He's not a muppet, but he'd be proud of this one I think. Would probably have sung it with them, too. And how about the nod to the Beatles "White Album" with the Muppets "Green Album." Too much? Nay, just right. Amy Lee (from Evanescence) sings "Halfway Down the Stairs," which was originally sung by Robin, Kermit's adorable nephew (and an excellent second choice for my husband I think) if I remember correctly. Her unique ethereal voice almost keeps the innocence of Robin's, but the electronic/techno background is a little too much for me. It's daring and almost commendable, except it becomes repetetive and almost trite as the song continues. Nevertheless, this song has gotten most stuck in my head. Sondre Lerche absolutely kills "Mr. Bassman" (in a good way) and sounds a bit like Ben Sollee, whom I also love. Andrew Bird does an absolutely beautiful arrangement of "Bein' Green." The entire album is worth this track, I think. Seriously. Kermit, himself, might even try to cheer Bird up. Matt Nathanson performs "I Hope That Something Better Comes Along" with a sincerity and slight sultry flavor that makes it sound like it came from one of his own albums, not a Muppet tribute. Rachel Yamagata closes the album with "I'm Going to go Back There Someday" with background vocals that sound like Glee, but it's a sweet end to a sweet trip down memory lane as an adult.
And that's the thing. This album is almost like what it would sound like if the Muppets actually did grow up, like all the rest of us did, and if maybe life taught them the same lessons it taught all of us. And if they "got the band back together" to revisit the old days. (Which apparently they do in the new movie coming out in November. Did you catch that? NEW MUPPET MOVIE!) The Green Album is sweet and sincere - like we all used to be. It's a fun refreshment from a world which is oftentimes mean and sarcastic.

Sufjan: love him, hate him, fight him, admire him

Some days I feel like the worst hipster ever, not that I am really trying to be a hipster, but having just looked up the definition of "hipster" in the Urban Dictionary, I pretty much am one. There is one core reason for my sense of detachment from the hipster movement at large, and that would be my relationship with Indie/Hipster darling Sufjan Stevens.
I have no idea how/when Stevens came on the scene. I can't remember who introduced me to him, either; which is most unusual. The first association I have with his music, however, are his two state albums Illinois and Michigan. My first response was "I can't believe he used midi oboe. This sounds terrible!" Then whoever it was that introduced me to this new soundscape informed me that he plays all his own instruments. For just a moment, that made me feel better, because I guess oboe is hard to play and sound good. Then I thought "This still sounds terrible!" His song "Chicago" from Illinois is referenced in a Snow Patrol song that I love. And people I know and love and who generally have impeccable taste love his music, but I just couldn't understand.
For a long time I would pretend to like Sufjan whenever he was being discussed, and I would coo and giggle over the state albums and be excited when there was talk of a new album, but when it was released, I would never do anything to procure a copy. I was surprised to eventually learn that one of my favorite David Crowder songs (for it's authentic approach to God's seeming absence) was originally a Sufjan tune off Michigan ("Oh God Where are you now? ...) and this seemed to give a little bit more legitimacy to his efforts, but I was still undecided. Then I heard part of his Christmas box-set and our relationship, Sufjan's music and mine, changed. First, I heard some new friends playing some of these new arrangements of Christmas classics and I was instantly charmed. They were inventive and innocent and difficult to sing along with because they were nothing like the originals but above all they were ... beautiful. I was so pleased when I learned they were actually Stevens' arrangements because now I actually did have an affection to back up my words with my friends. There's something about the new eyes with which Stevens sees these classics that I can understand. Music that comes straight from his brain, I cannot seem to grasp - we have no common ground in the functioning of our minds/understanding of music. But if the music comes from someone else's brain and Stevens reinterprets or reinvents it, I love it - we now have common ground.
The more investigation I have done into his music, the more messy my relationship with Stevens' has become. For the most part I think I can say I admire him. I don't think everything he does is gold or even a diamond in the rough. I feel okay saying this. I feel right and honest, and not the least bit dirty about it.
Even as I have been writing this post and thinking about this complicated relationship, I have been streaming his albums on Spotify and find this love/hate/admire relationship to be consistent. I seem to like his more recent work better, perhaps he has been practicing his oboe, or abandoned it completely and stuck with some different instrumentation choices. I have been impressed with the Shostakovich-like string part in the eleventh minute (that's right, the eleventh minute) of the original version of "All Delighted People" from his 2010 All Delighted People EP and I've heard references to classic Simon & Garfunkel in some of his lyrics. The man knows quality, clearly. Regardless of how I feel about his music-making, I have to respect his taste and his independence. His style is definitive and unique. You always know a Sufjan Stevens record and even his record label Asthmatic Kitty has a certain vibe to all its artists.
Here's the bottom line: I do not love the music of Sufjan Stevens, but I don't hate it either. That sounds like it could be the worst thing you could say to an artist. But it's certainly not a lack of reaction in this case either. I am not apathetic by any means. I merely relate to him as an artist in a deeply complicated and individual way. I have been in a continual struggle with my true response to Stevens until this point and I think the struggle ends here: I respect and admire him and what he does. I will probably break down and buy all of his albums at one point or another because they should be on every self-respecting hipster's iPod, but I will probably frequently skip over them and rarely be in the mood for them. Every now and again, though, they will hit the spot.
Except the Christmas albums, those will become a Christmas tradition in my house.
Speaking of Christmas, I am so ready for it to be here! Anyone else? Think it's too early to go caroling? Next July, I am going to get a group together to go Christmas-in-July caroling. Who's in?

Golder Discoveries

The week Haley Bonar released her new LP Golder was a fairly bleak music-release week. I had rather despaired of finding anything new that week when I happened upon her name way down at the bottom of the iTunes new releases list. (It's true, there's really no magic about where or how I find new music. Just lifting up a few rocks, scrolling down a few lists and happening upon some pots of gold ... and every now and again a pot of coal.) Her name seemed fairly promising and her music has followed suit.
Described as alternative/country, her style is difficult to classify. It's got electric guitars and drums, tambourines and wuzzley sounds (I made that word up), some acoustic guitars and a pleasant voice which sounds like an amalgam of a lot of female singers - the most striking being her resemblance to Patty Griffin in the rocking "Raggedy Man." Reading her bio, she's approachable and down-to-earth, living her own story and making music by her own rules, as encouraged by her artistically-friendly upbringing.
You can tell a lot about a person by the music they make most of the time, and Bonar's is unique, friendly, light-hearted and free-spirited, but appropriately structured.
When I first sat down on my porch and gave this album a listen through, every song seemed to bring a bigger and bigger smile to my face, not in the same way as say Freelance Whales, but in the way that it was exactly what I had needed to hear after a frustrating day at "the office." The album elicited an audible laugh when I reached the bubbly penultimate track "Bad For You." With the whole female singer-songwriter thing she has going on, despite her genre-denying style, I was expecting "Bad For You" to be a poignant reflection on a past failed relationship. Instead it's a tongue-in-cheek look at the way you can't live with this world, and you can't live without it. I played it for my roommate, but she didn't love it the same way I did. Bonar's not guaranteed to be everyone's cup of tea, but she's worth a listen.

Optimistic Reality

Every now and again I stumble, serendipitously, upon some music that lights up my life. Recently Amazon was running a great deal featuring 100 digital albums at $5. There is a part of me that hates to support Amazon because of what's become of Borders and all that Amazon seems to stand for. But I have to give them props; they've found a market and made it theirs. And $5 albums! What a steal. It took some of the risk out of exploring new bands or adding those albums to my collection that I knew as a music geek I should have and just hadn't managed to make it happen yet. As I was checking out the deals, I clicked on the samples for a band called The Submarines. The album cover was simple and slightly quirky, meaning either 1. super awesome or 2. trying too hard. In the first two seconds of the first sample "Shoelaces", my heart had found a new home. It was peppy, upbeat, strange in the most charming way with synths and bells and boops and pops. So great! I bought it. Right away. Since then, the whole album (their most recent release: Love Notes/Letter Bombs) has followed through on the promise of those first two seconds and has been lighting up my face constantly.

A few days after buying the album, I had a little bit of a heartbreaking encounter with a boy and while I did give myself the room to cry and grieve, instead of spiraling into a pit of despair, The Submarines came through and lifted my spirits. Every song is about a relationship - either the glories of one gone right or the sweet sadness of one gone wrong. The song "Tigers" goes in the latter category. But it's not the typical "You broke my heart, you stinking piece of filth, I hope you grow disgusting sores in all the wrong places" break-up song. Neither is it the "I want you back, oh baby, oh baby" kind either. Instead it describes the kind of picture we all wish we could have with failed or doomed relationships. The chorus says "You know I've loved you from the start/But this house can't make you stay/Sometimes these things just fall apart." All hope is not yet lost, but rational thought has set into the relationship and things simply aren't looking good. But the tempo, drums, synth and samples keep the world from crashing in. The whole album has that same optimistic reality to it - even the happy love songs are still rational and don't make you want to throw up.

I don't know anything about the band, except it's a guy named John and a girl named Blake apparently. But their blogs on their website are adorable ... just like their music.

If you've liked The Dodos, GIVERS or Freelance Whales posts, you're probably going to love The Submarines, too. I just can't seem to get enough of this happy groove.



Photo credit: Promo image from the interwebs.

Banjos and Sunshine

I don't consider myself the trendiest person. I seem to have trend ADD; I just cannot focus enough to grasp or care about them. Sometimes I'm late to them; sometimes I'm in the thick of them; there's just no telling.

I remember hearing about this trendy band called Freelance Whales over a year ago during NPR's coverage of the South by Southwest Festival in Austin, TX. I even downloaded a SXSW sampler including a song by them, but never bothered to listen to it.
A few months ago, Starbucks actually teamed up with Freelance Whales and featured their song "Generator (First Floor)" in a commercial. It made its way onto my iPod and through the beauty of shuffle, it finally made its way to my blessed eardrums just over a month ago.

Freelance Whales is from Queens, NY and formed as all the best bands seem to do nowadays - word of mouth and Craigslist (how else?) and started by filling the subways of their home city with joyous sounds. Their music is fun and littered with bells, whistles, banjos and synthesizers - all things for which I have a weak spot. The band's debut album, Weathervanes, released in 2009 and is 13 songs of joy & fun. The sound smacks of Sufjan Stevens, Owl City, The Postal Service, Noah and the Whale, old Jimmy Eat World and even a little Arcade Fire. Although eclectic, the sound is well-balanced and beautiful.

It's hard to keep your feet or the corners of your mouth down when listening to this collective of free spirits; so if you're in a mood to wallow in your self-pity, this would not be a good choice. But if you're ready to walk down the street accompanied by an infectious hook, banjo and sunshine, these are your kids.

Standout songs: Generator (First Floor)
Location
We Could Be Friends
Generator (Second Floor)




Photo from jellynyc.com; you can hear a good interview with Freelance Whales from them here.

Summer Means a New 'Winter'

Some of the best things come out of difficult times of life. Bon Iver, Justin Vernon's labor of love lost is a beautiful example of this. During a self-prescribed period of isolation following a break-up and an illness, Vernon began slowly forming an aural soundscape which became For Emma, Forever Ago. Tracks from Emma and the subsequent EP Blood Bank found their way into major television shows and feature films in both the US and the UK, most notably the appearance of the single "Skinny Love" in Grey's Anatomy and Chuck.
It's hard to believe, but it's been five years since the release of that Indie chart topper. Like a Christmas gift in June, Bon Iver (whose name comes from the French "bon hiver" meaning "beautiful winter") finally released the follow-up album Bon Iverlast month. And what a gift it is! The two albums bear some differences in general emotional appeal and instrumentation, but are very obviously still siblings. While Emma came from a place of heartache and recovery, Bon seems to come from a happier place - at least according to Vernon in an interview with NPR. I notice the instrumentation changes, especially when it comes to the somewhat controversial last song "Beth/Rest." But overall the album takes me to nearly the same place Vernon's debut album takes me - a place of quietness and contentment in the midst of turmoil or unrest. Bon Iver's music is always a place I can go to find rest and solitude. Although there's a certain part of it that pushes my general acceptance of synth/electronic music, Bon Iver has managed to earn my trust with anything he does. This includes some of the synth choices on Bon Iver like those in the single "Calgary" or the already mentioned "Beth/Rest." Comments have been made, and I agree, connecting these particular tracks (especially the latter) with the rash-causing synthesizer found in 80s music. But because of the relationship I already have with the artist and his creation, I'm willing to overlook it and almost embrace it. There's a certain sincerity in it that I hear now, that I don't hear in those once-beloved classics of days past. I wonder if this will still hold true twenty years from now.
I don't have any tracks like "Skinny Love" with hooks that get stuck in my head for hours at work yet, but I am always taken with the opening piano notes of "Wash." and the few words I understand in "Holocene" - Once I knew/I was not magnificent. The iTunes bonus track release comes with a video of Vernon playing "I Can't Make You Love Me/Nick of Time" which completely changes those tunes from eye-rolling and gag-inducing to tender, true and legitimate.
I had a hard time saying if I really wanted Bon Iver to come out with another album. I loved the first one so much, and I adore the EP, but part of the draw for me was its organic existence ... that Vernon never intended to record an album, it just grew out of him - you can hear that, I think. If there wasn't another one in him, I was okay with that. I was okay with accepting For Emma as a happy accident, complete musical serendipity, perfection or near. It would save me the heartache of a sub-standard sequel that would compromise my love of the first album. I'm happy to say, however, my fears were ill-founded and music does not necessarily always follow the paths of movies. There are more sounds found on this album - saxophone being one of them - but it's still the same Bon Iver. Vernon's vocals being an important mainstay.
You know the feeling you get before you go to bed, when all you want is your blanket and your pajamas? Or when there's a gentle snow outside, but you can sit by a warm fire in front of a widow with a mug of hot chocolate and slowly watch the world transform? Bon Iver's music is the aural equivalent to that feeling. Seriously. See if that's not true for you; it certainly is for me.



Photo by Drew Kaiser

"Fiestas and Siestas"

Summer means: sunshine, sunburns, long days, longer nights, rest, fun, windows down, popsicles, departure from the norm and superhero movies. And each of these things requires a certain soundtrack. They're awesome on their own, but the right playlist makes it worthy of a few of those memory brain cells.

GIVERS, a Louisiana quartet has its own contribution to make to that ever-important summer playlist, and those contributions can be found on their first full-length album, In light. Everything about it is perfect for summer - from the release date (this past Tuesday, June 7th - when the sun is still working its way to its highest and hottest, leaving plenty of time to revel) to its sound. Hailing from Lafayette, LA, GIVERS display nearly every aspect of the varied southern cajun music scene. There are some Zydeco grooves, African whistling ("Atlantic"), swamp blues ("Go Out At Night"), Carribbean congo rhythms ("In My Eyes"), and even a nod to Aaron Copland's "Hoedown" from Rodeo ("Ceiling of Plankton"). The music resembles the lifestyle - it is serious fun, carefree and deeply authentic. I don't generally know what the lyrics are saying, but the ones I catch I like and the ones I miss, don't bother me. They have the same level of energy as The Dodos, but are a little more innocent and optimistic.

The first single from the album, "Up Up Up" is an uptempo, catchy, irresistible tune destined to bring a smile to your face and a swing to your hips ... even practically-fused-hips like mine. It is best enjoyed loud, but be warned, it will get stuck in your head, especially at inappropriate times like prayer meetings. "I Saw You First" sounds like it could be included as part of the Where the Wild Things Are soundtrack. Several of the songs qualify to accompany a boardwalk rollerskating scene in an Indie chick flick featuring Michael Cera. Everytime I hear "Go Out at Night" I love it more - there's something incredibly compelling about it's laid back, slow groove.

After undergoing rigorous unstandardized testing, In Light's scores stand as follows:

The "Sunny Day, Car Windows Down" Test: A
The "Laying in the Sun at the Pool" Test: A
The "Beach Volleyball" Test: A
The "Dance in the Street/on the Sidewalk/Anywhere With Your Friends" Test: A
The "Crank it up to 10" Test: A
The "Crank it up to 11" Test: B
The "Full Voice Sing-Along" Test: C (in spite of the last song's title and subject-matter, words aren't so paramount)

With this album, it is going to be a good summer. They say it themselves, "I choose light."

Get ready for summer, here's their first single "Up Up Up"

Rob Bell - Love Wins

The time has come for me to contribute my part of the hype that has surrounded this book. I've heard murmurings of Rob Bell being a universalist, of blasphemy, of herecy, of blatant lies, of confusion, all sorts of really nasty things. The worst part? They've all come from within the very church Bell claims to be a part of ... well, sort of. Bell probably wouldn't say the church he follows would support such claims or attitudes. But the point is, they both claim to follow Jesus!

I'm going to cut to the chase and tell you my conclusion. Ready? Here it is:

I still don't understand what all the hype is about.

I didn't really understand what all the hype was about in the first place. Not understanding what people are upset about really helps one keep an open mind when diving into said controversy, at least it did in my case. I also tried to avoid hearing what most people were saying until I had read it for myself. I did listen to one interview with Rob Bell on Relevant Magazine's podcast. I thought I would allow myself to hear the thoughts of the person who penned such controversial material.

What I understand now is that some people think Bell is saying everyone will go to Heaven, because in the end Love wins. I see the argument. If God is all-powerful, and everything is subject to His will and His will is that no one should perish, then it seems everyone will go to Heaven, right? I see that argument. Bell, I think, also makes that argument. But. Bell also says that true Love is choice and it wouldn't be very loving of God to send/bring people to Heaven if they don't want to go to Heaven. So not everyone goes to Heaven.

Bell also challenges the generally accepted view of Hell as a real place, experienced after our life on this Earth has ended, and separate from this Earth. And that one I'm not going to touch with a ten-foot-pole because 1. I just don't care 2. I really don't know anything about it and 3. I just don't care.

My impression throughout the whole book was that Bell is offering humbly his understanding and possible view of Heaven and Hell and then gives some reasons for his understanding that. I also leave with the impression that Bell really doesn't know how it's all going to work out, and it's all a big mystery because who of us can really say until all is said and done? But that we shouldn't be afraid of mystery; we should dive in, as long as we remember we're really just making guesses, some more educated than others.

I've read three of Bell's previous books, and I subscribe to his church's sermon podcast. Perhaps I wasn't the most neutral to begin with. I'll confess that I've heard a bit more liberal leanings come from his church's sermons, especially as of late. But I also try to listen carefully to what's being said, what's being meant, and how it all lines up with what I know from my experience with Scripture and the leadings of the Spirit. I think that last part is really the key point in this entire controversy. It is important that we remember, well meaning and well-versed as our pastors and spiritual leaders may be, they are still fallible (unless you're Catholic, but even then ...), they are still human, still finite beings, trying to elucidate the infinite Creator. Tell me we're all going to get it right every time!

If you're already upset with Rob Bell for his cultural relevancy, or whatever other reason (there can be many), then you're probably not going to like this book either. If you're already a fan of Rob Bell, you're probably going to love this book. If you're already carefully weighing the words of every pastor you hear, you're probably going to like some parts of this book and not other parts of it. But I'd still recommend it. I found it to be an enjoyable experience.

Here are a couple of the passages I particularly liked:
"Jesus consistently affirmed heaven as a real place, space, and dimension of God's creation, where God's will and only God's will is done. Heaven is that realm where things are as God intends them to be." (Page 42)

"There are individual hells, and communal, society-wide hells, and Jesus teaches us to take both seriously. There is hell now, and there is hell later, and Jesus teaches us to take both seriously." (Page 79)

"Restoration brings God glory; eternal torment doesn't. Reconciliation brings God glory; endless anguish doesn't. Renewal and return cause God's greatness to shine through the universe; never-ending punishment doesn't." (Page 108)

"Love demands freedom. It always has, and it always will. We are free to resist, reject, and rebel against God's ways for us. We can have all the hell we want." (Pages 113)

"Will everybody be saved, or will some perish apart from God forever because of their choices? Those are questions, or more accurately, those are tensions we are free to leave fully intact. We don't need to resolve them or answer them because we can't, and so we simply respect them, creating space for the freedom that love requires." (Page 115)

Finally: "Grace and generosity aren't fair; that's their very essence." (Page 168)

What to do when you don't know what to do

I have a book sitting next to my bed called "Plan B" ... it's about what to do when "Plan A" doesn't work out.
Every day I have a new plan for my life.
The one magazine I subscribe to just ran an article about 11 things you should know/do around your 25th ish year of life.

I've been thinking a lot about where I should go next, what I should do next, what I should do at all with my life, what my long term goals are, who I want to be, what I want to do. Do I go back to school? Do I get a doctorate? Do I become a writer? Do I stick with performing? Do I try to find a new job? Do I keep taking auditions? Can I still do an internship at NPR even though I'm out of school? Will I ever get married? How can I get a job being a professional friend (like, driving around the country encouraging my friends and crashing on their couches)?

I've asked these sorts of questions my whole life. Which is why at one Passion Conference I fell in love with Micah 6:8 where it says "...the LORD has already told you what is good, and this is what he requires: to do what is right, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God."

At prayer with my new church tonight I was reminded of this verse and on my way home from prayer I was again thinking about these questions.

And here's what I think you do when you don't know what to do, where to go or how to get there ... Breathe. And do something. Anything, really, but mostly do whatever is right in front of you to do.

So tonight I will go to bed. And tomorrow I will go to work. And I will be present at work, not lost in some fantasy land, because I'm in Cleveland now and Cleveland needs my full attention and my love, and I have love to give Cleveland and who knows, somewhere in this city, there just might be the next clue on this treasure hunt of life and it just might be right in front of my face ... eventually. And after work I will practice and then maybe I'll do some reading or some writing before riding to rehearsal with friends. Because that's what I have to tackle next. My doctoral dissertation doesn't need to be written tomorrow. But coffee does need to be made tomorrow. And I'm just the woman for the job.

So tomorrow I'll do what is right, I'll love mercy and I'll walk humbly with my God ... and then we'll take it from there.

Charlie Hall sings a version of "Micah 6:8" and I was obsessed with it for a good long time ...

The Aeolus Quartet

Something a little different on the blog tonight. Not an album review, but a concert review.

I just got home from the Aeolus Quartet's da Capo performance in Reinberger Hall at Severance Hall in Cleveland. (I call it da Capo because as the quartet was formed right here in Cleveland at the Cleveland Institute of Music, it was a return to their roots a little bit.) Here is what you need to know: these kids are fantastic. I say "kids" with great love. I might be biased because they are also good, treasured friends of mine. But do not let that change your opinion, I'm hard on my friends.

Aeolus has been officially together as an ensemble for three years now. All four members have just finished post-graduate degrees at the University of Texas at Austin where they were the first Graduate Quartet-in-Residence at the school. As individuals, they are young; as an ensemble, they are young; as artists, they are way beyond their years.

The quartet put together a big program - a Bartok quartet, a Mendelssohn quartet plus two new works by living composers. Each piece presenting its own difficulties in mastering well, but mastered these artists certainly did. The Mendelssohn may have been the weakest on the program, the middle movements perhaps needing a little extra care than what they'd received, or suffering from fatigue as it was the last piece on the aggressive program. The Bartok was stand-out incredible. Such a mentally, musically and physically demanding piece and Aeolus certainly rose to the challenge and won. Alan Richardson's cello playing in the third movement was absolutely stunning. And the new works were intriguing and palatable. First on the program was Steven Snowden's "Appalachian Polaroids" which makes use of taped recording that interweaves through the beginning of the piece until the quartet takes over the sound. It's recognition of Americana sonorities and techniques make it resonate in the hearts of the audience - difficult to do with modern music these days. The Snowden has a companion piece in Alexandra Bryant's "Lady Isabelle Was That Kind of a Woman." Talking with the quartet members afterward, violinist (and husband of the composer) Nick Tavani let me in on some of the inside difficulties of the piece. It requires the players to both speak and play in rhythm - which can be done, but is a little like patting your head and rubbing your belly at once. He told me they were afraid of it at first, but they certainly didn't sound it at all. What I appreciated most about the Bryant was its use of rhythm and speech pattern in musical form.

The Aeolus Quartet possesses the rare combination of passion and discipline. I know they practice 8 hours a day, 6 days a week together. And their discipline shows. Each member is so familiar with not only their own part, not only each other's parts, but even how every note works in the whole of the piece - the purpose and direction of each phrase. They live inside this music. But it is that living that sets them apart. They really LIVE in the music. It has not lost meaning or just become rote, each player is present in each moment. They are communicating across the ensemble, they are communicating with the audience, they are communicating with themselves. Nick Tavani is a brilliant soloist, whose moments in the Mendelssohn elicited a literal mid-performance exclamation from his teacher, legendary William Preucil, of "That's my boy!" Rachel Shapiro's ensemble playing was on fire, supporting each line as necessary and then finally getting her own real moment to shine during their encore piece. Greg Luce's sweet sweet viola sound is so good for the soul - it really makes me feel bad for perpetrating so many viola jokes. And my superstar of the night cellist Alan Richardson was absolutely solid and his interpretation gorgeous. It is so inspiring to be in close proximity to these fantastic players. But even beyond what they bring to the stage, each one is so personable off stage as well. They can talk your ear off about what they just played, but they can also tell you about other bands, other composers, video games or food.

I'm not kidding you - watch out for these kids ... and just plain watch them. If you can make it to any of their performances, even if it requires a little bit of a drive for you, do it. It is completely worth your while; especially if you stay and chat with them afterward.

They are living proof that truly great sound is no respecter of time - you are never too young and it is never too old.

This video is from their website. Enjoy!