You can’t predict the weather. Sometimes, life throws something at you. When it does – not if but when – hopes and expectations lie like shattered spokes. Is it fate, destiny, or circumstance? No one knows, but paths can change when there’s a sudden shift in the weather, and something that once seemed so sure and stable starts to become the opposite: uncertain and unfair. Promises peter out as a drop of rain appears. You have to stop and change course. A natural disaster plunges normality into desolation, and the same is true of our longed-for futures which so often disappear into the ether. Disappointment ensures: inclement weather. You can’t prepare for it; the hurricane warning arrived too late. Steven Kemner recently went through such a change:
“I needed to move away from everything that I loved to a place I had no desire to go. This change complicated music, life and a sense of belonging”. – Steven Kemner
Like the changing of the weather, ironclad clouds can appear from out of nowhere, eclipsing the sun with blackened totality, and the deep, roiling textures within the music of Gradation Movements are full of rain and turmoil, of leaving and moving on. The slow swells and hard-fought movements are indicative of clouded spells which obdurately block out the blue hope of the sky like a cruel shield.
Coated in sleek silver, the notes shadow the steps of the people below. Rainy season stalks the soul; it doesn’t seem to matter where the notes walk, because the cloud always follows, indiscriminate with its downpours of rain and its trident spears of lightning. Rainfall is needed in order to grow, and that includes us. The rainy spells can make us stronger, helping us to rise up in troubling times…but too much of it, and we drown. The cirrus patterns and the cycling of the wind may be hard to understand – we may never understand – but they still have a purpose. The purpose may seem obscure, but it’s there. There’s a strong energy at work within them, and troubled times often reveal things that, in hindsight, we later come to appreciate. When sunlight fails, the music’s tones lie hidden in a shroud of slow mist. The clouds don’t always disperse. You can’t predict the future – you just have to roll with it until you finally come to terms with the strange weather.
This one is an absolute beauty and possibly our favourite design of the year: Two tone / 4 panel hand made letter-pressed Somerset cotton covers, glass mastered CD, 15 x U.S Department Of Agriculture weather maps printed on luxury 250gsm card (size A6), 5 x William Blackwood & Sons Meteorology charts printed on luxury 250gsm card (size A7), insert from ‘The Weather’ by George Kimble / Raymond Bush (Circa 1943), sandalwood scent. All of the above rests inside stitched / sealed glassine bags, individually hand numbered on letter-pressed tags.
Age of Insects is the result of a series of visits made by Mark and Laura to Stephen’s studio in Virginia between May 2009 and January 2010.
The three improvised around common interests in analog electronics and digital manipulation, field recordings and instrumental performance practice. These recordings presented here feature only minimal editing and post-production, with a primary intent of capturing shared moments of listening and response.
The titles refer to extinct insects—the imagined hum and flutter of their calls, flight and communication.
This 44 minute piece may structurally resemble a classical composition – divided as it is into several interlocking stanzas – but it’s difficult to place it comfortably within the realm of modern music. If anything, ‘The Rest….’ evokes the otherwordly, fantastical obsessions of the Victorians (Conan Doyle, Lear, Grandville, Wellcome, etc) through means of meticulously manipulated instrumentation, samples and voice.Plinth, of course, is no stranger to Victoriana.
Extremely limited numbers available: For all intents and purposes, Grand Salvo is the work of singer-songwriter Paddy Mann. Grand Salvo’s debut album, 1642-1727, and its follow-up, River Road, earned him rave reviews and a solid following at home and beyond for his stark, sensitive and beautiful songs.
After a spell living in Europe, Paddy returned to Australia and began work on another album he’d dreamt up while away, A set of songs that acts as a children’s storybook, the album became cursed with too many recording problems and Paddy decided to shelve it. While that project will eventually see the light of day, its plagued nature ironically became the motivation for The Temporal Wheel.
Named after a Hitchcock-esque nightmare in which he was set upon by a pair of hard-winged, marauding cuckoos, David A Jaycock’s second album is step forward from the pastoral motifs of his debut, incorporating an expansive country-folk sound alongside the indigenous qualities and general oddness that have made his name.