Ivan Moult and The Mine Canary

The last time I saw Ivan Moult, he had just played his fourth ever show with The School at the Wee Red Bar in Edinburgh. We’d been lamenting the proposed closure of BBC 6 Music, and the generally sorry state of the music industry. Five months and 4000 miles now separate me from the Wee Red Bar. Since then, 6Music has been granted a reprieve and Ivan has released his debut solo EP, Mine Canary, through Cardiff’s Bubblewrap Collective.

Mine Canary is a far cry from The School. Though there may be a dash of the 60s swirling around in the mix, you’ll find no Phil Spector or Brill Building sounds here. You can trace Ivan’s musical DNA through the folk scene and even deeper, dipping into the Delta blues. The songs are quite stripped down, Ivan’s smoky vocals accompanied almost exclusively by his own guitar playing, their colour enhanced by generous use of open chord voicings and rare, minimal piano fills.

For a disc like Mine Canary, choosing a standout track is an exercise in futility as any one of the last three tracks could be your favourite song on any given day. But, for purely melodic reasons and the sheer unforgettability of it, “Fetch me a bucket” has got to be the high point of the collection. Like any good folk song, it has the ring of something you’ve loved all your life with no distinct point of origin. I cannot tell you how long I’ve heard “So fetch me some water, and some bread and a bucket. / Leave me to sleep it off and send me to my bed. / And tell me in the morning how I ended up corrupted. / And then I’ll realise that you go straight to my head.” going round in my head, because, as far as I know, it’s always been there. What I can be sure of is this: when it is gone, it will be all too soon.

For years, miners in the UK and US would take canaries deep into the mines with them. So long as the birds remained healthy, the miners knew they were free from the immediate danger of toxic gas. And like its namesake, if Ivan Moult’s Mine Canary is any indicator, the world is still a safe place for music.

Little My just a little while longer…

Little My's Ninth

It’s unfortunate that I came upon Little My too late in the game to amass the Collected Works along with the rest of you. Their plan to release a song beginning with each letter of the alphabet before disbanding is quickly coming to an end. To further complicate things, hard copies of most of their releases are now sold out, so backfilling isn’t even an option. Learn from my mistakes, kids.

The band, ablaze with some of the brightest lights of the brilliant Cardiff indie scene (this time including members of The School, Silence at Sea, and Gindrinker), is set to release their penultimate project, Little My’s Ninth on Monday, 22 February. This time round, the EP is available for preorder from Bubblewrap Collective (remember their stellar 12 Days of Christmas compilation?). However, if downloads are your thing, those will be available from most major distributors in late March.

Clocking in at just under 12 minutes, these four tweegaze pop gems (emphasis on the twee) feature the cheery melodies and often cynical lyrics you’ve come to expect from Little My. “Bears in the Air” is a good example of this, though my favourite track, “Upsticks & Carry On”, is a straight up boy/girl quirky ukulele tune (“Hey, which planet are you on now a million miles away? / I’ll use gravity and satellites to make you stay”).

This is one EP not to be missed, though I would recommend getting your hands on one soon, as only 200 copies will be made and few are likely to be left when the band play their last show in Cardiff next month (9 March).

A Switched On Christmas Spectacular

I love Christmas. What’s not to love (even though the fact that half the world celebrates it in the summer kinda freaks me out)? It’s the month leading up to it that I’m not so keen on. Sure, December has its good points, like Starbucks red holiday cups and the incomparable scent of winter (again, with the exception of that freakshow Southern Hemisphere). But, let’s face it, December comes with a lot of crap, too, like traffic, huge crowds, and the incomparable cold of winter (except for you know who). By far, however, the worst facet of the Christmas season is the music. Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas music. What I absolutely hate is the effect it has on musicians, namely the “I’m bored, let’s make a Christmas album” attitude. Cases in point: Newsong’s “The Christmas Shoes” and Bob Dylan’s new Christmas album.

No, it’s been a decade since I’ve come across a Christmas album that delivers consistently from start to finish (it was BEC Records’ Happy Christmas volume 1, feat. a young Switchfoot, Starflyer 59, and Five Iron Frenzy, among others). This year, thankfully, has been different. There are a number of promising collections circulating right now. Here are two of them.

The Cardiff-based Bubblewrap Collective has put out a collection that is in some shops this week and ought to be for sale at Rough Trade in London sometime next week. The concept is quite clever, I must say. Twelve artists were given 31 days to write and record a song based on one of the twelve days of Christmas. The result is a varied landscape of often lo-fi, stripped-down indie goodness where ukuleles and glockenspiels (and everything else, really) flourish with an impressive line-up including: The School, Little My, Allo Darlin’, and The Bobby McGees.

Our old friends and Indie Handbook favourites, The School (who are included on a couple of other Christmas comps this season which, if we can get our hands on copies, we will also review for you) have the twelfth day (for those who, like me, don’t have the attention span to make it through the entire song, that’s drummers drumming). And they execute their share of the festivities brilliantly with the handclappy C86 ditty “Drummer Boy”. Brontosaurus Chorus, on “Calling Birds” (that’s the fourth day), manage to pull off what may be the single greatest line in the history of Christmas music: “Christmas is a time for excessive drinking”.

On the lighter side are “Five Golden Rings from the Hi 5 Kings” by The Rocky Nest (including a heartbreaking muted trumpet refrain between otherworldly vocal performances) and Allo Darlin’ with the ukulele-laden “Silver Swans in NYC”. Then there’s the relentlessly charming “Lords Keep Leaping” by Silence at Sea, complete with injected sound effects. I’m going to have to stop myself there, because I’ve got another album to talk about. You’ll just have to check out the other seven days on your own.

Venus Hum’s Switched on Christmas EP (get it here for free) is something completely different from the 12 Days compilation. Rather than a set of entirely new songs, Venus Hum have embraced the spirit of reinterpretation championed by artists like Wendy (née Walter) Carlos on such albums as Switched on Bach and Switched on Brandenburgs. (Once upon a time, the traditionalist in me cringed at the thought of such an atrocity. The post-structuralist in me has since destroyed that aesthetic neophyte.)

Certain tracks on this EP, like “Suzy Snowflake” and “I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm” translate naturally into such an electrified idiom. Even before listening, the concept is a welcome change. Ballads like “Silver Bells” also sync easily with the band’s dreamy electropop aesthetic, as a sort of hybrid of their first two albums (though it’s more Big Beautiful Sky than The Colors In the Wheel). On the opener, “Let It Snow”, Annette Strean’s vocals have been assimilated into the network and “switched on” along with a seemingly endless array of computers, synths, and processors to dazzling and (aurally) sparkling effect.

Going in, however, I had my doubts about how even one of my all-time favorite bands would adapt two of my favorite seasonal numbers. There is, of course, the classic “The Christmas Song”, penned by Mel Tormé, immortalized by Nat “King” Cole, here given a tastefully switched on treatment, with a bit of ambient crackling tacked on in the opening for good measure. In the cases of electro-programming wizards Kip Kubin and Tony Miracle, it is their sensitivity and, more importantly, ability to hold back that render “The Christmas Song” not only passable, but one of two “must hear” tracks on the EP. The other being “Silent Night”.

Now, about that “Silent Night”. It’s come a long way since Christmas Eve of 1818 and the debut performance (for voice and guitar) at Nikolaus-Kirche in Oberndorf, Austria. But it’s still one of those songs I prefer un-fooled-around with. Sometimes (ok, oftentimes) it’s easy to question if all of the “progress” we as human beings have made in the last 191 years, has really left us any better off or if we’ve regressed, and those really were the “good old days”. Maybe we really have sucked the world dry of all the beautiful things. Venus Hum’s take on this, perhaps quintessential, musical rendering of the birth of Christ is humbly trippy and sufficiently glitchy (just like we are), but the sound of Annette’s voice floating just over top of it leaves me with the sense (and hope) that there just may be some goodness left in the world.

Sleep in Heavenly peace”? Yes, thank you. I believe I shall.