+ i'm a storm in a teacup

I've been trawling through the Oz Music Project archives lately and came across a couple of old reviews that I'd written back in 2000. Turns out I didn't write much for the OMP in the end. I'm hardly prolific at the best of times, but I was already doing the Tribe and Yap columns at the same time (and getting paid for it no less) and Osmosis was a fairly time-consuming exercise as it was. But of the very few reviews that I did do, I'm glad to say that I still stand by the two major pieces I'd written - I still feel the same way about the bands and the records, and I don't mind the way it was written as well. Looks like I still use the same turns of phrases, the same way of describing music and the same type of hyperbole today as I did then. Some things don't change.

The first one's here - Deloris, The Pointless Gift. (Incidentally have been going through a big Deloris phase in the last couple days from having seen them play at Hopetoun on the weekend just past. Everytime I see them play, a renewed love appears. It's like one of those gas flames in the old fashioned water heaters in the bathrooms of art deco apartment buildings - might be turned down, but never off and ready to ignite when the timing is right!)

It's been a good year for Australian music (and don't let anyone tell you otherwise!) What's more exciting is that many of them are coming from fairly young bands, putting out only their first or second full length releases, often astonishing us with well crafted songs and acutely coherent albums. Even as we draw ominously close to the years' end, it's still a tough decision as to who will come out on top. That said, I think I may have found a winner already.

Melbourne boys Deloris offer such an outstanding and accomplished album in The Pointless Gift, that I have no choice but to lavish praise. With 12 songs, and clocking in well over an hour, it leaves you emotionally involved but never spent. A considered structure that flows easily, The Pointless Gift glides effortlessly from a gripping rock approach to the tender romanticism that will eventually mark the longevity of the album, and the band.

It's also been a long journey for Deloris, having recorded the album well over a year ago in Perth with Braving the Seabed co-horts and only finally releasing it this month through Quietly Suburban Recordings. Since recording the album, Deloris have also gained a second guitarist (Leigh) and parted ways with their drummer (Luke). Still, it's a changing dynamic that the band are pleased with, particularly as it's helped translate the album to the stage.

From the first word, The Pointless Gift grabs you by the collar and holds you hostage for 12 minutes with a driving bassline, insistent, chiming guitars and a deft touch on the snares. Just as they did on the debut Fraulein, two of the album's boldest tracks signal the start of a Deloris experience. But don't get too comfortable. Befitting its title, Creeping Jesus slips in unnoticed and before long it too occupies your mind with thoughts of serenity and spontaneity, and images of sand and sun.

This vivid imagery is an apparent feature of most of the tracks, and one of Deloris' strongest traits. Marcus' development as a songwriter comes to the fore as less of their influences are worn on their sleeves as it did with the first. He has since honed his craft as a wordsmith, deriving a gentle turn of phrase to capture a moment or essence in time.

Lines like "when they mean that I have to say all this, when like feathers the salt just rolls off her lips" (taken from Bird Pictures) and "he can notice rust on the ringlets of his shoes and yet he seems to lose the detail in the way she likes to lean on the seams of his jeans" (Good Parts) make for vibrant and animated pictures that reveal just enough to keep the mystique, and leave you wondering why events happened they way they have.

Sonically, the boys have also shown great improvement. Already hinting at their potential on Fraulein with dark, persistent numbers that progressed beyond a crunching rock piece like Death of a Horse, all the musicians on The Pointless Gift (Braving guests included) became a lot more adventurous with adopting new sounds and new ways of creating dramatic effect. In addition, they've provided the perfect balance between a cacophony of guitars and cymbals and understated pauses and muted undertones of piano and strings.

Deloris have exceeded all expectations and delivered a first rate album that I have faith will still hold true in the years to come.

+ i'd rather be tired than turn into someone who needs a life

Sadly the band are no longer around, but I still think of the record in the same fond terms now as I did when I wrote this at the end of 2000 for the OMP. Braving the Seabed - self-titled.

The short version: Perth band put out very fine self-titled debut. As Molly would say, do yourself a favour and go and buy this album NOW. You can thank me later.

The long, anecdotal version: Let me tell you about my epiphany from the other night. I put on the new Braving the Seabed album on just before I was about to hit the sack, and whilst in that half-conscious sleepy state, it hit me like a bolt of lightning. With a single strum of the guitar and a single word uttered from vocalist/bassist Rob, I felt myself transplanted in Western Australia, feeling like I could start to understand the isolation and tyranny of distance that has long influenced the sound of Perth bands like Adam Said Galore and Bluetile Lounge. This was indeed a watershed moment, given that a) I've never been to WA before and b) a record’s essence has never hit me in such a dramatic way before.

In the same way their post-rock/slo-core brethren in the bustling metropolis of Melbourne and Sydney are defined by their location, it seems like Braving the Seabed have let their "Perth-ness" shine through. But instead of a frantic, intense edge that rests underneath the guise of a measured strum in the likes of Sea Life Park or 2 Litre Dolby, this is the sound of a much gentler, slower-moving epics untainted by the nervous energy of a dirty, crowded city. The sound is warmer, full with violas, vibraphones and slide guitars underpinning what could have been some rather stark songs. There are many things happening at once on the record, but you don't feel it because they're played with a wonderful calm and serenity. The arrangements may be deliberate, but it washes over you in an unhurried, ad hoc sort of way.

The album opens with one of its strongest tracks, Tonight Is For Sleeping. Summing up the philosophy of my entire year in a single line, Rob evocatively declares I'd rather be tired, than turn into someone who needs a life. Starting off which a kick, it's a brilliantly lazy song, with off-kilter rhythm to accompany the placid vocals that washes over you. Guitarist and violinist Kirsty continues the Braving spell in the following Walking Across Highrises and The Air Between, mesmerizing with her muted, tender musings that ebb and flow with the softly-softly hum of the vibraphone and brushes. But it's Rob vocals that jerks you back to life, hovering just above twang of the slide guitar, the subdued march-like beat and the melancholic viola on the noodly A Perfect Silence. This was THE song. Y'know. It's the heart-tugging, stomach-gripping, eyes-welling stuff that the best songs are made of.

The band come full circle on the album, closing with the tremendous 9 minute epic, Nervous / Being Made Out. Dual by name, and a duel by nature, here Kirsty and Rob compete for your attention telling you 9 times out of 10, it's just that I'm nervous, over a distorted fuzz battling with an acoustic guitar. Eventually around the 8 minute mark, Nervous becomes Being Made Out and comes back into the fold, resplendent with strings and vibraphone. Brilliant stuff.

Forgive me if I sound like a wanker and for the extraneous use of adjectives, but dammit, this is an amazing album, and ever since that pivotal moment, I haven’t been able to tear myself away from it. It's a quietly persuasive and incredibly classy effort from the band, released locally on their own label Real Amber and on SunSeaSky in the US. And like I said, I think I'm finally beginning to see the Perth light. Do yourself a favour and go out and buy this album NOW. You can thank me later.

+ the point in the war where we knew we were lost

I didn't actually write this, Jasper (OMP founder) did but I did release it so I'm archiving it for your reading pleasure. Braving the Seabed / Deloris split 7-inch.

Two bands that have many things in parallel, Deloris and Braving The Seabed come together in this wonderfully paired back split 7". Firstly Deloris shine with the oblique war references in "The Point in the war where we knew we were lost". Frontman Marcus Teague's vocals fit nicely in the mellow melodies provided by the band.

Braving the Seabed on the other hand work similar in style but add a bit more flavour with the guitar work coming more in the foreground, and with keyboards and glockenspiel giving "Mapped Out in Our Thoughts" a nice constancy throughout.

Overall a fine effort from both bands, and the more subtle flavours do come out on the luscious 7" format brought out by Traffic Sounds and Steady Cam.

+ there's people crying out for a change to season

kid cornered - letterhead.
songs don't have to scream at you to command your attention. in fact i find the most insistent ones are those that come to you in moments of quiet time, when the mind has a chance to collect its thoughts and the body regains composure. and so very subtlely, a song slips in your head and you find yourself singing along, wondering where the chorus comes from and why you've assumed the backing vocals instead. i can't actually write about this song when listening to it, because i have to stop and just listen, paying careful attention for the pauses betweens a single pluck of the strings or a gentle tap on the skins, not wanting to miss a precious second. there's a lot of space in the song, on this record in fact, that leaves you with an incredible yearning desire. the only thing to do is hit repeat until sated, which i do so gladly

+ top 5 really great pop moments for today

1. beulah - emma blowgun's last stand. talk about a build up. 2 minutes of strings, a bit of tabla, a rolling kick drum, that organ and then.. what a release! fuzzed out guitars, and the greatest trumpet melody. and miles singing without his sneer and i'm a believer. dip my head in the waters of san francisco baby!

2. american analog set - come home baby julie, come home. i am struck. paralysed for 6 minutes by the hypnotic guitars and the bass groove and the sweet vibraphone and the incessant beat and the perfect harmony of man and instruments to create something so beautifully ethereal and yearning. amanset understand the effects of anticipation and delaying instant gratification, which are lessons i can stand to learn from time to time.

3. dan kelly and the alpha males - babysitter's of the world unite. a little bit sad, a little bit soulful, a little more rock, a whole lotta pop. what a combination. i don't think i've ever heard this song just once and stopped. always gotta be at least 3 times in a row. i can not get past that grooving bass. i imagine a good follow-up to this song would be titled "bad spellers of the world untie!"

4. acid house kings - do what you wanna do. oh my god, my heart wants to tear itself out of my body and do a little jig on the dancefloor whenever i hear this song. it's like they wrote this exactly to melt my stone cold exterior or something. how does the norsk gene produce such perfect pop moments?

5. aden - (swords and) falconry. i have never road tripped in new england but i always imagine i am whenever i hear this song. the song is all red autumn leaves, winding roads and jeff gramm's dulcet tones.

in other news, i'm reading "love is a mix tape" (by rob sheffield) at the moment. it is sad and beautiful, and altogether quite fitting because i'm in the middle of making the ultimate american road trip mix for myself and whoever my travel companions may be. also, the story is an inspiration for all those who harbour secret desires to unleash their inner appalachian punk rock girl.

+ parallel synchronised randomness

whatever happened to the guy who spent a year in his bedroom with nothing but the internet and a credit card? this was of course from many many years ago when the internet was still a novelty, and i was still subscribing to wired magazine. today i virtually spent the day holed up in front of laptop, banging my head gently against the external harddrive as i contemplated life without all the fancy software that i cannot afford to own. my, what dramas of this modern life. nevertheless it struck me that it would not be in the realms of impossibility that i too could live in a bedroom with nothing but the internet as entertainment and an unlimited credit card for sustenance. although i do prefer flesh to sensuous flesh interaction (i'm all about the hands and the eyes), i do often derive more pleasure from learning about something rather than from the thing itself, which equates to hours of enjoyment from wikipedia alone.

but the consequences are unknown. would i come out unscathed? did the fella who underwent the year long experiment recover and go on to operate as a functional member of the community, maybe even making a substantive contribution? or did he stay as recluse, unable to deal with the rest of society after his self-imposed exile (not unlike the hikikomori of japan)?

clearly i must've had a lot of time today to contemplate such questions. actually they came after one of those sunday afternoon naps which are the highlight of my weekend. i've only said it a thousand times already but i do love a good sunday afternoon nap. especially at the tail-end of the winter and summer extremes, when the afternoon is warm but still breezy, and i have music playing and cares are non-existent (or at least pushed to the back of the brain, right next to guilt over my inertia). but i digress. i woke up from my nap today with a flurry of thoughts, not including a strong desire to create a blend of surreal art and factual films which was influenced by my viewing right before nap time. which was so very inspiring (i note, i am talking very much in self-evident sentences here)

the science of sleep is the latest michel gondry film. it is wonderfully surreal and imaginatively rich and creative and whatever superlative you can think of. and there's the notion of parallel synchronised randomness, a concept for which i never knew the name of, but had regularly experienced. even as of recently, i feel a certain kind of fateful connection in which my life interpolates with that of someone else's. or perhaps i just read too much into things, which i am prone to often enough (rather to my detriment).

then i watched the art safari episode of maurizio cattelan - i don't know what i enjoyed more. the tongue in cheek commentary (bordering on the ridiculous) on modern art by the jocular italian artist or the delightful affection for his subjects displayed by the charming host, ben lewis.

+ i asked for a sign, he gave me the finger

i saw the tigers play live for the first time ever. i'm not to be blamed though, the last time they were in sydney was june 1999 or something. that's a really long time ago. they were great, as good as i expected. chris c is like a cute little angry pixie. a cute squinty angry pixie when he took his glasses off. i hope they come back soon. they are criminally underrated. there was a time early on when triple j played the tigers and it seemed this smartsy band from perth were going to do really well, but they didn't quite get there. i guess richard kingsmill will only talk you up so much.

in other news, i am flogging the deloris album, ten lives. i have been hung up on it since seeing them play at the spectrum a few weeks ago. the show was spectacular, the band could not have been a better cure for my sorrows if they tried. anyway the album: it is more rockin' than rollin', which i am loving, because i always hoped they would steer towards that direction. it looks you in the eye and pulls no punches. ever so respectfully throwing down the gauntlet and saying, here i am, like it or lump it.