Drapeaux Rouges Des Enfants Perdus

“Lady, I” by Samuel Lockridge

from his self-released When I Rise (2012)

“Is it too early to talk about the best album of the year?

Yes, it absolutely is.

But this is one worth remembering. I can safely say that.”

That’s what I originally wrote, before saving it as a draft. I still mostly agree. The album is really good, but I secretly hope that this isn’t the single highest peak of music in 2012. What a gorgeous single though…

Also, (and let me preface by apologizing for being that fucking guy), doesn’t the poetic cadence and chord movement of “Hangman” strongly resemble that of Leonard Cohen’s “Hey, That’s No Way To Say Goodbye”? Does anyone else hear that? Am I an asshole for simply asking?

Nomads, Pilgrims (2010)

“Three Car Garage” by You Won’t

from Skeptic Goodbye, released on Old Flame Records

Simple put: I really enjoy this single (and the album in its entirety) and I was absolutely sure that I’d featured it months ago. This, I found out, was not the case. So here we are.

I almost subbed the original single for a different track, but ultimately found it too difficult to pick one over the others.

UPDATE: I’ve listened to this album once or twice a day since unearthing it a couple weeks ago. I love it.

I’m still struggling to articulate what makes it so perfect to me. Josh Arnoudse has quickly become one of my favorite “young” (in the sense of career) writers. I have requested an interview.

“Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” by Ezra Furman

from The Year Of No Returning, released on Kinetic Family Records

I’ve been following Ezra for years now. Over time his sound has gotten heavier, while his writing has become even more delicately honest than ever before. I’m excited to hear a new record from him, as well as some very exciting news that will be acting as the flagship for a new tendency within the zine:

Ezra Furman is one of the first artists announced for this year’s Denver UMS!

For readers outside of this state, the UMS is like our miniature SXSW, featuring hundreds of bands (both big and local) playing over 4 days in 20+ venues lining a stretch of South Broadway (a stretch containing some of our favorite bars and, most importantly, our absolute favorite fucking venue in the city, The Hi-Dive). We’re especially excited because we just moved up the street and will be able to enjoy the shows fully, with no need to worry about driving home when all the fun is over each night.

We will be continuing to highlight UMS performers as the line-ups are announced. By that I mean to say that we will be featuring the artists that we are most excited to see live, as opposed to featuring all the headliners and a couple local spots in a general feature.

UMS 2012! I’m so fucking excited!

“Hopeful Antiquarian” by Eidolons

from their self-released EP, Wolf Dens

Portland 3-piece. Listen.

from Wiktionary.com:

eidolon (plural eidola or eidolons)

1. An image or representation of an idea; a representation of an ideal form; an apparition of some actual or imaginary entity, or of some aspect of reality. 
2. A phantom, a ghost or elusive entity.

Eidolons EP (2011)

“Charlie” by Town Hall

from their self-released Sticky Notes & Paper Scraps

Brooklyn folk. Haven’t had much of that recently. I like it.

Town is hall is comprised of somewhere between 3 or 15 people. I’m not sure. [EDIT: 3 people, definitively.]

she looks like an angel in a cloudy cradle

passed out on the bed in your room

your sweet little darling

all she knows is falling

down the stairs or in love

so Charlie got a tattoo on his wrist

hoping she’d stay there like his skin

and I’m dying to know if I could win

with a heart like hers

she looks like Diana with a leopard in her hands

as she leaves holding all of her laundry

your sweet little moon beam

all she knows is moving

down the street

or in her sleep

so Charlie got a tattoo on his wrist

hoping she’d stay there like his skin

and I’m dying to know if I could win

with a heart like hers

she looks like an actress in her yellow sundress

as she smashes the bugs in her apartment

your sweet little lady

all she knows is fading

like a t-shirt

or a friend

so Charlie got a tattoo on his wrist

hoping she’d stay there like his skin

and I’m dying to know if I could win

with a heart like hers

I wrote this a while back and forgot about it. When I came back to it, I found that they’ve released a new full length (that shares a few songs, but is a noticeably “louder” album). Here you go:

Roots & Bells (2012)

“Margaret” by Every Atlas

from Burn Down the Forests! Bleed Out the Oceans! The Deserts and Canyons Will Sing

Californian 4-piece. They seem to constantly, in all forms of press, compare themselves with Bright Eyes and Manchester Orchestra. I always find it strange when artists (not labels, managers, PR teams etc.) openly compare themselves to other, more “famous”, artists. I don’t know why this bothers me, but it does. Regardless, the comparisons are warranted. I get it; I think their work is gorgeous, their poetics sharp. I hope you don’t misinterpret cultural analysis for under-appreciation.

Listen to Every Atlas slowly; give each word, each note, time to bloom. Once this album has shaped a garden, I’ve provided additional work by them below.

Margaret was such a beautiful woman
I was a tired old man
We married in June of last year by the ocean
and danced to our favorite bands
But I broke her heart just the same
From the balcony she’s calling my name
I can’t hear her through the glass

Margaret was a wife so loyal and caring
I cheated, I stole and I lied
And she tried to break down my walls and my barriers
Her love for me she could not hide
But I took her heart for a fool
A joke so ungrateful and cruel
And I’m an undeserving man

I was a piss poor excuse for a husband
She waited on my hands and feet
And I was an arrogant, selfish old bastard
Who could never once thank her for a single good deed
But she showed me love just the same
Always made sure that I was okay
And I deserve to die

So why of all people would you want my pity?
I’ve learned from the things I’ve done wrong, but I’m ashamed
Your love is a bottomless bottle that’s empty
I think you could fill it back up if you’d kiss me the same

Margaret I miss you to death
So to you it’s my sins I confess
and Margaret if you’d come home

I swear that I’ll change
I swear that I’ll change
I swear that I’ll change
Margaret I swear that I’ve changed

Big Bad Wolf EP (2010)

The Ghosts of Everyone (2009)

“Too Many Moons” by Owen

from Ghost Town, released on Polyvinyl Records

Solo project of Mike Kinsella from Chicago. Apparently he’s played in a long list of bands including but not limited to American Football, Cap’n Jazz, Joan of Arc, The One Up Downstairs, Owls, Maritime, and Aloha.

Additionally: As I was reading up on him I found out that he’s been playing shows with some kids I grew up with, Fake Problems. So that’s cool.

Au revoir, bonne chatte
There’s too many moons and I’m but one man
You know I like to get lost without you
and return with dirty thoughts about you
Don’t wait up
I’m not coming home until my insides hit the floor
Bonne nuit, martyr
There’s so many moons and you’re paralyzed with fear
Summer’s sun brings new blood to bathe in
I can’t swim but I’ll dip a toe in
Don’t wait up
I’m not coming home until these demons get bored
In mirrored eyes I see kerosene
and you’ve got the matches
(Just don’t ask me to stay)
Bonjour, chère épouse
There’s too many moons and I’m but one man

I’ve recently become fixated with the idea of presenting larger portions of each artist’s body of work; I supposed these could be called retrospectives, but that, to me, seems to imply that said artist has ceased creating. Instead, I see it rather as a chance to catch up, and to, upon enjoying the new single, delve deeper into an artist’s history.

This is especially possible when the albums are presented on Bandcamp. I first tried this with Matt Elliott, but unfortunately only one song from each album was available. Now, with Owen (and several artists before and after him) I will present full (or partial) discographies. This one, for example, spans 10 years but does not include every release.

I will not do this for every artist. Additionally, I will sometimes present side projects instead of back-catalog.

New Leaves (2009)

At Home With Owen (2006)

No Good For No One Now (2002)

“Nickels and Dimes” by The Act of Estimating as Worthless

from 2012’s Amongst These Splintered Minds//Leaden Thoughts Sing Softly, released by Double Double Whammy and Mt. Home

The Act of Estimating as Worthless contains several people, but is, at its core, built around Zoe Grant & Matthew Van Asselt.

I’m really overwhelmed by this album right now. I’ll probably come back and rewrite this article later in the week; for now, I don’t really know how to articulate my adoration.

Please take the time to listen to this album, to the words spoken. If you like it, go buy the tape.

i’ve got goosebumps on my arms from the cold outside
won’t you wrap me in a blanket and take me inside
give me a plate of cookies and a cup of tea
light a fire to dry the socks that i’m wearing on my feet
this is not a simple path that were walking down
you’re talking to me like a child
pull the drapes off of your face
and take a walk now
over rooftops under cities that shine with the starts

look how bright they shine
oh bright they shine

pictures pictures all around waiting to be taken
bracelets fall to the ground waiting to be found again
along with spare change and small things

they’re waiting to be found
i’m waiting to found

UPDATE: I just got my copy of the cassette, released by Mt. Home with art and packaging by the aforementioned Matthew Van Asselt. This is the single most beautiful presentation of a tape I’ve ever witnessed (and appears as an embodiment of everything I dream of doing with our own label, Plywood Violins). Here’s a picture:

TAOEAW are also part of the Diner House collective, whose Family Compilation is proudly featured below (containing, among other cool things, a Matthew Van Asselt solo track, as well as (a previous feature) Elephant and (an upcoming feature) Wood Spider). Spend some time with it.

“Autumn Snow” by Bison

from their self-released LP, Quill

7-piece from Virginia. What a fucking album.

It’s really as simple as that.

We will sow
We will sow
For to bring the autumn snow
And our labor shall not
Be for us in vain

She will grow she will grow
For to make their dresses flow
Till she’s seeded by the gin
Till the mistress weaves again
We will sow
We will sow
And she will grow

We will weave
We will weave
Until the Master has his sleeves
And for good measure
We’ll clasp his snaps ‘fore dawn

Never leave
Never leave
Until the unison’s agreed
That she is no longer rough
Like the hands that reap her up
We will weave
We will weave
And never leave

These blistered and
These calloused hands
Have done no work alone

We formulate
Then recreate
The patterns that we’ve sown

Foremost the gin
Then fibers spin
It’s all we’ll ever know

For are forebears
Have left us here
To reap the autumn snow
We will reap the autumn snow

“Cartoon Morality ” by Elephant

from his self-titled LP, released on Laughable Recordings

Yesterday we featured Phil Hartunian’s project as Follies, and are now excited to show his equally-talented older brother, Greg, recording as Elephant.

Support Elephant and all the Laughable Recordings artists by buying tapes and going to shows.

“Wire Dancing ” by Follies

from Sway, released by Laughable Recordings

Choosing a single was definitely the hardest part about deciding to present this album.

This is the project of a very talented writer/multi-instrumentalist named Phil Hartunian (who, I’m told, is still in highschool). That’s all I know, and now I’m craving more information. This album is genuinely perfect. I’m so excited about finding Phil’s work that I’m also presenting his first album below. Expect to see more of Phil and everyone at Laughable Recordings on here in the future. [EDIT: fuck yeah you will. Tomorrow (which is now yesterday). As it turns out Phil has an equally-incredible older brother who plays as Elephant. Go check his stuff out immediately.]

that one last scratch mark on the door
threw your voice along the floor
and your emotions left without you there
so tell me what you want to hear

well I think that they’re dancing
on wires between memories
that cut through the basement
they tore your mind open
and the dead dreams fight on through
that hole in your mouth to
loosen your shadow or
disprove the weirdo

Well I never thought I’d be back here
while there’s still time to shake my sneer
and laugh away this lovely mess
and love the light upon your dress

don’t feel obliged to spit in my eye
swear I’m alive half the time

like every smile you fake well I’ll
swear I’m alive half the time

Follies’ Home Knits EP :

“Wind Up Bird” by Arthur & The Librarian

from their self-released Reverend Whitepigeon Speaks on Love and the End of the World

St. Louis, Missouri 4-piece (maybe?) led by Arthur Gregory Crittenden and Aubrey Ann Howard (The Librarian?).

Another example of useless accompanying article. I really think I’m going to switch to writing haikus instead.

The poem:

Plumes askew, the blue of a pale fire.
Shall i pluck your feathers to decorate my sky?

comment allez-vous?

Take your lovely time;
Rest in your nest until someone gives you life.

comment allez-vous? 

Have you no patience, have you no purpose
when you’re not flying high?
have you no patience, have you none left in me?

comment allez-vous?

“Continental Dares” by Ed Tullett

from his self-released Never Joy

Here is an 18 year old kid who compares himself to Justin Vernon. The results are pretty much as expected (successfully, I might add). That’s not a bad thing, in any way, but I still feel the need to pronounce it.

Did the cover art attract me before his music? Yes. Did I intentionally pick the song that sounded least like Bon Iver? Absolutely. Should I feel bad about being honest, at the risk of criticizing someone’s art? Perhaps, but I do not intend to criticize, nor censor.

There is nothing wrong with teenage poets. Or pop musicians. I have admittedly been both.

Ed has been seeing some hype around the internet. I understand why. I hope he capitalizes on it.

It should be noted that the album art, as well as the vocal on this particular song, was fortunate enough to gain contributions by the lovely Ffion Atkinson.

The tone of this article feels slightly insulting. It shouldn’t. Never Joy is a great example of how far you can take “bedroom folk” in a certain direction; it is, ultimately, a beautiful piece that deserves attention. I like Ed’s music a lot, I just happen to use the writing within this project as a form of cathartic self-analysis, which sometimes leads to seemingly negative articles like this.

I should also mention, quite simply, that I enjoy his poetry.

Hearing waves
of war in words
crack over head,
and sky,
and little teeth
would sink into mine,
and I would be
unaccompanied.

Sometimes it was part of me,
A flash of urge to find the streets,
from boyhood vigour
and shadowed figures
you’d taught me.

Frozen hands were pocket bound,
an hour was enough for me;
a ball of snow,
a wound to treat.

Eyes to lights in sky,
no need to define,
to give a name is to lie;
hollow but beautiful.

Afraid of all the stares
and continental dares
I had lost,
and that fear will sparkle,
and then fall out.

For the childhood
I owed you everything
that I am scared of,
and surrounded.

[EDIT: this piece makes me feel uncomfortable, but I do not intend to change it.]

“Small Hands” by Keaton Henson

from 2012’s Dear, available through Keaton, or through Motive Sounds

I’m really excited to have Keaton featured, finally. He’s an incredible visual artist, as well as an especially talented poet and musician. His new album, Dear, is out now, as well as his most recent book, Gloaming, both of which can drastically improve your week upon immediate purchase.

Everything this guy approaches becomes beautiful, no matter the form. To support this claim, here is the accompanying video to the single, as well as the poem itself:

Miss you terribly already,
Miss the space between your eyelids,
where I’d stare through awkward sentences
and avoid through awkward silence

Miss your teeth when they chatter,
when we smoked out in my garden
When we couldn’t sleep for all the heat,
soft talk began to harden.

Miss your small hands in the palm of mine
The fact they’re good at making,
Miss your sitting up incessantly,
And the fact you’re always waking in the night, night.

And I,
I hope for your life
You forget about mine
Forget about mine

Miss your teeth dug in my shoulder,
as we rolled in early morning,
Miss your arm dying beneath me,
as I lay there simply yawning

Please forget me, you were right dear,
I am cold and self-involved,
And though I’ll miss you, recent lover
I am weak and therefore fold

Get distracted by my music,
think of nothing else but art
I’ll write my loneliness in poems,
If I can just think how to start

Dot my i’s with eyebrow pencils,
Close my eyelids, hide my eyes,
I’ll be idle in my ideals,
think of nothing else but I.

I, and I

And I,
I hope for your life
You can forget about mine
Just forget about mine
Oh, mine.