Things To Make And Do

Are you friends tired of being on the receiving end of your unwanted mixtapes (ungrateful buggers)? Interested in having a CD of random stuff come through your door? Most importantly of all; do you have faith in human nature?

If you're almost nodding your head off in agreement then the Mixtape Project may be for you. Sign up with your name, postal address and willingness to make one mixtape a month. You should find yourself on the receiving end of sparkly new compilation CD. Some of which are rather lovely, like this one...

Scrawl in Permanent Ink? NO THANK YOU.

Here's an appropriate song; Beat Radio's 'Teenage Anthems for the Drunken Boat', it's rather good.

Cheers to twitter buddy and cracking artist @Duchamps_Bride for pointing this out.

Money Can't Buy You Happiness...

Emmy the Great's album 'First Love' made a beeline for my heart; to get her next album off the ground the folky darling is making a beeline for pockets...

Starving Musican? With That Ice Cream?

Asking fans for cash in exchange for musical perks certainly isn't anything new; there's an ever increasing lineup of artists seeking money up front, with varying degrees of success - Public Enemy's fan base certainly weren't too keen on stumping up $250,000. The appeal of a tangible connection to a musical project is obvious. Options to go see a sound mixing, to melt into a puddle at a meet and great, or get a signed t-shirt, allow an enthusiast to collude. As a small bonus the major labels get to suck lemons in penance for price fixing CDs, back in the day.

It's not all about innovative music making, or putting over over on the man though (my god, I used used the phrase 'the man', I half expect to hear the muted sound of a stoner cheering). Over at pledge, Madina Lake have appealed to fans to help cover bassist Matthew Leone's substantial medical costs, after he was injured intervening in a domestic dispute, offering access to EPs, t-shirts, interviews and house concerts; donations welcome here.

As for Emmy; starting at £8, a contribution secures support for the album, garnering a wee prezzie for yourself and donation to a good cause (Amnesty, WaterAid, Samaritan's Purse). All gifts can be found here at pledgemusic.com. Her last album was rather splendiferous, and she seems a nice lass, so she's had some of my shiny pennies.

• Here's First Love, live, see what you think.

Ghosts of Wales

Photo taken from one Jim Blob Blann's flickr stream. He has some lovely picture of Aberystwyth which make the place (if not the people) look almost attractive.

Well, there's been bit of a strange start to the morning; after a troubled and largely sleepless night I was rudely awakened by thunderously loud music. 'Music' is stretching it; the dawn was broken by an ebullient cacophony that sounded for all the world as if ghosts of Wales had risen up to march to war. Rolling timpani drums, competing (equally boisterous) male voice choirs, and chorus of lamenting women thrown in for good measure; all singing/howling "Bread of Heaven" as if they were on the wild hunt.

The odd thing is that the origins of this frenzied Wagnerian terror are an absolute mystery. It was supposed to be a copy of Cerys Matthew's new album, 'Tir', a lovely lilting affair, but somehow, I'm told, iTunes has channelled the host of hell into a stirring rendition fit for an epic medieval battle. The next track was a strange pizzicato string thing...

I shall be spending some time deciphering it, whilst polishing my sosspans bach and mawr into armour.

In the meantime, why not have a wee listen to the songs they made me sing back in school assemblies and eisteddfodau (big artsy competitions, which all learning must grind to a halt for). Additional bit of trivia Cerys Matthews's former bandmate Owen Powell was once my old welsh teacher. Wales : it's a cwtchy little country.

I'm moving so so soon.

• Myfanwy - Cerys Matthews
• Ei Di'r Deryn Du - Cerys Mathews

Shhhh, tell no one.....

Secret queues, secret buses, secret warehouses, spectacular times and a film on top; all part and parcel of the lastest Secret Cinema outing.

Secret Cinema is a quasi-regular event organised by some nice folk in London; you pay your money, get a location, some clues to the film, advice for fancy dress and before you know it you're being whisked away to a brave new world.

In this case it was a world based around Blade Runner; a neon dystopia with Voigt-Kompf tests, replicons, snakes, and pickpocketing dwarfs running rampant against the worn future backdrop. Men wore trench-coats and steely expressions, and women were clad in nowt but bits of plastic. Best of all, it was all hidden amongst a maze of shipping crates. just under the shadow of that bloody big tower at Canary Wharf.

Apart from getting annihilated in chess by some fiedish chess-child, it was all pretty amazing; I played with snakes, had a massage, and got to see a classic film in a great setting. Tiptop time. But Shhhh, tell no one....

Photos taken from Future Cinema's flickr stream.

Unrequited Love with Workers in the Service Sector

In Glen David Gold's magnificent story 'Carter beats the Devil', the titular magician Charles Carter visits a fortune teller whose sole revelation is the name of the woman of his dreams - Sarah. It's a name that never leaves his mind. A few years ago I had a similar experience...

Don't look at me like that, I only went to keep a friend company, and quite frankly the lady in question certainly couldn't muster abilities to trouble either James Randi's proffered million or Tim Minchin's offer of his left leg, piano and wife. She did tell me about a man called 'Steve', who is supposedly destined to be the great love of my life. 'Steve'. It's hardly an auspicious name.

All that preamble brings me in a roundabout way to my point; Teitur Lassen and his songs of love yet to come. Teitur is a singer/songwriter of the fay variety, who is out to pluck heartstrings with his plaintive voice. Chances are you'll have already heard one or two of his songs on some film or another; yet despite wit and craftsmanlike skill, not to mention artistic accolation from the likes of Rufus Wainwright, the Faroese singer's profile is woefully low in the UK.

Don't be mean - his Gran made him that jumper.

Teitur may be an unabashed romantic but his music is far from being a boring dirge of fragile emotions. Fourth studio album 'The Singer' is full of grand ambitions, breezy soundscapes and a cavalcade of interesting arrangements that flow alongside heartfelt writing. It's music with deep pauses that allows the sighs to escape.

As for my story, since my visit to 'Gypsy Rose' I've only ever met one Steve; Steve-the-Barman, who worked all the hours under the sun at the pub at the top of my old street. Upon whom I had a hopeless, not to mention paralyzing, crush. It was all I could do to stop myself breaking things out of nervousness as I tried to force out the odd word. Then I found out he had a girlfriend. So much for destiny anyway.

• Catherine The Waitress
• Start Wasting My Time

The Blue Blue Bluegrass of London

I have a confession - I quite like country songs. Sorry. I like the melodrama, the unabashed heartache and alcoholism. Hell, I have a not very secret, and not at all ironic, love for Dolly Parton - great woman that she is. Admittedly most country music is a bit of a guilty pleasure for me though; there's only so much you can take of yearnin', cheatin', or dogs dyin'. Not to mention the pungent evocations of leather and spilt whisky that have proved a bit too corrosive for any lengthy musical exploration - but very now and again I have found someone who is a bit special , someone who holds my attention...

The Barker Band hail from London, which is a bit of a shock, not because all Londoners must play plinky-plonky pianos, sing about "Mother Brown" and do 'nuffick else, but rather because all that hokey Americana has managed to survive a transatlantic transplant with no ill effect. A cynic may get the impression that this six piece outfit is playing at being cowboys, but that's utter nonsense. These guys mean it with all their hearts, and they're not alone - British country is small but tenacious. The Barker Band is stronger than just a genre though.

The Barker Band is a a bluegrass outfit with everything you could wish for: fiddles, banjos, a sound full of wide skies, sad eyes and bags of soul. The band's fourth album 'Sorry For The Kissing' came out last year and gathered quite a bit of critical acclaim for its blend of upbeat tempo bluegrass knee slapping, wistfulness and longing. It's a bit different and well worth a listen. And since they've had support from 6Music and Steve Lamaqc in particular, I'll just crowbar in a reminder to 'Save 6Music'.

Anyway, here's a wee sample;

• Cheating Heart
• Make Him Stay
• Die Tonight

The Other New Worlds We'd Discover

I could write so eloquently about ...

No, that's not true: I could write so much about the myriad of shattered memories that scattered into the air when I put the wrong song on today- they hung around like dust in sunlight, a halo of broken dreams picked out about my head, or drunken bats clashing into each other, etc, etc. That sort of poor prosy lyricism could continue for a tediously long amount of time, all I can say in my defence was that it was a song that bit down hard and elicited a choking response.

It's all Josh Ritter's fault. Damn you Ritter, damn your poetic lyrics that puncture like tattoo needles, damn your sensitive new album, and damn, damn, damn my own stupid self for being such a soft touch that one song can make my heart feel like chipped pottery.

If you're not aware of Mr Ritter then you're in for a treat; he's a folky gem from Moscow, Idaho with dazzlingly beautiful lyrics and quite a few natty tunes too. 'So Runs The World Away' is his

fifth studio album: it isn't bad at all. In fact the sheer amount of emotional charge he manages to pack in reminds me of why I love music, and just how expressive a good song can be. I'm head over heels for him.

A melancholic Josh Ritter is the voice you wished you possessed when you find yourself hemorrhaging aerial recollections of loss, resignation and beauty -the voice of the tales of one too many, though whilst you're busy sliding down that bar, he's poised, charming and totally disarming. And yet with the sudden spin of a coin, his tunes can switch to peels of jubilation: resounding hope, triumph and shining lights abound. Sincerity and heartfelt earnestness are his hallmarks throughout.

Sadly this ability to turn on a sixpence creates a fault line that undermines 'So The World Runs Away'. Ritter's shift in mood oscillates a little too wildly, and for once doesn't seem to be deftly managed. The changes in style are choppy and slightly chaotic, but if you're only going to unpick it all and stick it in a playlist then maybe the arrangement is ephemeral anyway. I'm probably being old fashioned in complaining at all. It does sound a little unpolished though.

What does work however is the quixotic balladering: Josh Ritter continues to create folksie songs that sound like they've existed in the ether forever. They're perhaps a little disenchanted, and quite a bit tougher than second (and sublime) album 'Hello Starling', but then there's been an odyssey of wandering in between the two. 'The Curse' (quite Cohen-esque), 'Latern' and 'Another New World' are the perfect accompaniment for the ghosts that waltz at the back of your mind. The tender reaction they provoked was worth its weight in gold.

Ritter writes that he is living a charmed life, and though the life of a professional musican may be a story he has at times fallen out of love with, he's still going strong and still creating wonderful songs - that alone makes my heart beat a little faster.

Whilst I go exorcise some demons, you can hear the whole album here, which is rather nice, eh? And here's a free mp3 of 'Change of Time'.