Apologies on the tardiness, dear readers. I skipped September altogether. I’ve been away: a small series of adventures, most recently to an island in Scotland for an absolutely glorious wedding. While there, I witnessed a lot of beautiful music happening in ways that don’t really feel possible / common here in so-called Canada. There was a social aspect to it that dissolved the audience / artist binary in a way that I really admired. It got me dreaming about how this kind of playing / listening / connection could be possible here, or wherever you are. As we enter the inward looking seasons, I encourage you towards the same question: how might experiences of music forge deeper collective experiences?
click the covers to listen or go your own way ~~
Mio Fou - Mio Fou (1984)
This thoroughly pleasant and quietly moving music was recorded by Hirobumi Suzuki and Hirono Mio, two relatively unknown studio musicians. Their environmental pop blends delicate strings, dulcet piano and selective percussion, building from Durutti-style spaciousness into bonafide bops. There are more than a few moments that remind me (happily) of the recent work of Leo Takami. While writing this lil’ blip, I learned that two of the album’s tracks first appeared on a compilation called Young Bright Aquarium Workers, and I’m struggling to think of a better sonic descriptor than that phrase.
Danika + - On Another Note (2020)
This didn’t grab me on initial release. I didn’t give it the attention it deserved… I should have known. Similar to her work as part of the beloved and now defunct Old & Weird, Danika’s songs come on a little slanted; they ask that you wrap your brain around them, rather than laying bare their charms all at once. On Another Note is filled with insights and earworms of the most unusual kind. Syllabically-packed, cubist country music that feels a little strange and strangely familiar.
Ragnarök - Ragnarök (1972)
Years ago, in a thought exercise attempting to differentiate ‘experimental’ music from ‘prog’ music, a friend described prog as ‘ego+music’. Despite the somewhat crude semiotics at work, I appreciate that equation as a cheeky shorthand. Case in point: it’s a helpful way to describe this self-titled offering from Swedish “prog” band Ragnarök. It’s warm, inviting and, to my ears, downright humble.
Slauson Malone - Vergangenheitsbewältigung (Crater Speak) (2020)
As Slauson Malone, cross-disciplinary artist Jasper Marsalis (yes, son of you-know-who) achieves the miraculous feat of creating music that’s profoundly emotive and highly evasive at the same time. The sound of his music gracefully evades any easy classification or genre, and because of that, the feeling is all the more real. Marsalis’ elusion is merely a tool to achieve a deeper expression of self. It’s incredibly inspiring and refreshing. I was completely stunned the first time I heard this.
George Cromarty - Grassroots Guitar (1973)
I feel like each time I grow fond of a guitar soli project, my ears are like, ‘that’s it, you’ve maxed it; you’ll never need another guitar soli record’. And then the seasons change and along comes crosslegged George Cromarty or some other vaguely mystical, introspective dude just sitting in a field, tinkering away in the name of the soul’s journey.
I’m super interested in feedback / dialogue / suggestions. If you have ideas about the newsletter, want to share music with me, have specific questions / requests, don’t hesitate to get in touch. And please: share this newsletter with a pal if you feel so inspired!
Yrs.,
Andrew P.
andrewdanielpatterson [at] gmail [dot] com