With that autumnal chill now prominently in the air, I figured it would be appropriate to discuss my favorite fall-time electric folk collective. There’s nothing better than Fairport Convention on the ghetto blaster as the soundtrack to a crisp, dry, cool autumn evening. Evidently, the band agrees as well. Look at all those dried up dead leaves in the old band photo above. Smokey the Bear would have had a shit-fit if he was there.  I know I have a bad habit of going off-topic and chasing tangents, but it’s worth mentioning that Smokey the Bear is still totally awesome.

You know what’s not awesome, though? The notion that Bob Dylan is the end-all, be-all of folk songwriters. I tend to polarize people in my friends circle with that ol’ statement of mine “Bob Dylan… totally overrated.” Ballsy, I know. This is not to say that Blood on the Tracks and similar jam hives are not remarkable. However, some of Dylan’s accolades should have also been bestowed upon a certain premiere British electric folk collective that turn traditional folk songs and ’60s psych folk into godlike rumbles. The hippies may hang their fabric Bob Dylan posters in their living rooms in messianic ritual, claiming to be all up in on that folk tip, but they will all look at you confused when you drop the bomb of who the greatest folk artist of all time is. And that’s Fairport Convention.  Perhaps I’m losin’ it, or am totally missing something, but I just don’t think Dylan could have composed what Fairport Convention did in 1969 with the magical What We Did On Our Holidays – lyrically, musically, or otherwise.  A powerful statement for a powerful album.

What We Did On Our Holidays is one of the most diverse, sweeping, moody folk albums ever released. Granted, all the preceding banter is pure opinionated fodder. With all those bravado statements out of the way, it should be noted that Fairport Convention do, ahem, cover Dylan’s “I’ll Keep It With Mine.” Regardless, Fairport Convention uber alles.

The depth of each song – rich, orchestrated layers with literary lyrics and a sonic roller coaster feel throughout the 12 flawless movements – is something rarely heard in a normally minimalist, populist genre. Sandy Denny’s vocals on “She Moves Through the Fair” is stunningly seraphic, soaring high over atmospheric, loose arrangements. Totally celestial. It’s a traditional Irish folk song, but the weighty mood of Fairport Convention’s version feels like something entirely different than a public domain sing-a-long – it feels like an emotional KO. I mean, look at what’s happening at the three minute mark: “Last night she came to me / My dead love came in / So softly she came that her feet made no din / And she laid her hand on me and this she did say ‘Oh, it will not be long, love till our wedding day’” I mean, what do you say to that? Call me a nancyboy if you will, but that chokes me up. Sappy, I know. I also like flowers. So what?

Compare this with “Tale in Hard Time,” the previous song on the record. Forgive me for likening this jam to Blue Cheer, but ya know, for folk – this is heavy. Like BC heavy. Not only does the rhythm thump and guitars (albeit clean distortion guitars) slam seismic, but you gotta love that baroque flavor through the entire song courtesy of Simon Nicol’s autoharp that, I guess, he got from a time machine or somethin’.

Not much to say about “Nottamun Town,” other than it’s the perfect mystical chanty to play if you ever find yourself traveling by caravan across the Anglo country side with Donovan and Vashti Bunyan. Another classic that slays me on an almost daily basis.

Anyway, without further ado, get it crunk on these nuggets.

MP3 :::
Fairport Convention – She Moves Through the Fair
Fairport Convention – Nottamun Town
Fairport Convention – Tale in Hard Time

You’re more than welcome, of course, to read my additional commentary on this matter, but if you just want the gist of it, all you need to know is that Hush Arbors‘ new eponymous record is a scorcher!  It laid my ghetto blaster to waste.

I already expected Keith Wood’s (a.k.a. Hush Arbors) debut for Ecstatic Peace to valiantly score from the three-point line. I had a chance to see him play a great opening set for pal and collaborator Six Organs of Admittance circa late 2005, so I thought I understood what I was getting into. Turns out I was wrong. I did not expect Hush Arbors, just released Tuesday, to be a comprehensively destructive force of mysticism replete with melodic beauty and modal explorations.

Hush Arbors, as far as the whole freak folk/New Weird America thing goes (I begrudgingly use this term), has always struck me as the obvious choice for ambassador of the aforementioned movement, as he offers the perfect median point for the disparate sounds found therein. Wood’s take on psychedelic folk demonstrates that it is not necessarily his intent to destroy strong structures, nor is it his intent to play it straightforward and traditional. However, Hush Arbors has gone above and beyond comparison to similar artists. It’s no longer fair to say “this is a great offering from the New Weird America camp,” it’s only befitting to describe this self-titled record as a monumental collection of music that stands up against any album, anywhere. I’m not trying to overhype this really, but Hush Arbors rules so hard. Hush Arbors’ adventurous, wide-ranging sonic paintbrush invokes the past whilst thrusting the very notion of folk rock into future territories. In short, Keith Wood just dropped the type of album that separates the men from the boys.

As a contributing member of Six Organs of Admittance (not to mention Current 93, Wooden Wand, Sunburned Hand of the Man), you certainly hear the familiar Fahey-esque, drone note heavy guitar noodling that defines the Organs’ catalog through each and every track on Hush Arbors. But the riff-heavy structures only accent the music, never existing as the sole focal point. These are well written, melodic, solid songs – simple enough to hum along, layered enough to overload your headphone technology and melt your brain. Also different than Six Organs is that Hush Arbors keeps his weirdness prominent and economical. Whereas contemporaries Ben Chasny and MV & EE like to break down into drone examinations and take lengthy journeys down sunken catacombs, Hush Arbors keeps his ideas contained within fairly concise, brightly colored, accessible songwriting. The album’s rollicking psychedelic folk, with vintage AM radio influences like classic Mayall-style R&B and Byrds-helmed feel good bucolic flourishes, is a shapeshifting exercise in sonically diverse, cosmically dense, warmly welcoming electric folk. “Water II,” as the name suggests, truly sounds like an ultra-distorted sea chanty. “Sand” is reminiscent of Wooden Wand’s intimacy and pensive acoustic melodies, yet ropes in vast tracts of almost-orchestral swells and cultivates a far-reaching, voluminous sonic landscape that soars to a sweeping crescendo in the following “The Light.”

But “Rue Hollow”…

Oh snap, “Rue Hollow.” You are very rarely treated to folk music of this nature, of this caliber, these days. Fans of Fairport Convention – here’s a missing track from What We Did On Our Holidays, except that Hush Arbors made it, not the Thompsons. You might not tell the difference, though. “Rue Hollow” is absolutely gorgeous, spacious folk in the vein of Fairport Convention’s torch songs and classical Anglo-folk canticles, baked to perfection by Mr. Wood. Crisp, autumnal acoustic guitar and ethereal, resonant vocals committed to dusted-off warm tape launches “Rue Hollow” in the exosphere, where it won’t come down until mankind mandates a cease-and-desist on its bullshit.

I feel puny and stupid in the awesome expanse of Hush Arbors’ new joint. This is a heartfelt call-to-action: buy this here. Fuck Chinese Democracy, this is Hush Arbors’ time, as far as I’m concerned.

MP3 :::
Hush Arbors – Rue Hollow
Hush Arbors – Sand
Hush Arbors – Water II

I should be releasing my best of 2008 list next month at this time. As a preview, you can bet that San Francisco’s Sic Alps will be firmly planted in the northern latitudes of the list. This isn’t your father’s unwashable, filthy, no-fi psychedelic rock scuz – Sic Alps twist, creak, and thump, taking you on a cosmically damaged romp through west coast good vibes and future shock trepidation.

Why I didn’t czech out the group earlier is a mystery to me. Their debut Pleasures and Treasures was released on Animal Disguise, home to my good friends Warmer Milks. The latest, U.S. Ez, has a comfy place on the Siltbreeze roster with the likes of Charlambides, The Dead C, and hey look, U.S. Girls (see below). Sic Alps certainly drink from the same goblets as the highest in psych rock royalty, but they also bring the goods to back up their seat at the table.

I was casually listening to my iTunes on shuffle whilst engaging in some fast-track multitasking when “Clubbing For $$” came on and I thought “hmm, I don’t recognize this Alexander Skip Spence song.” Both Skip Spence and Alps vocalist Mike Donovan retain a subtle, gorgeous quality through raspy timbre and decimated, hissing melodies, suggesting that both gentlemen have seen the true face of God and didn’t like what they saw. “Gelly Roll Gum Drops” also provokes this same, insane electric folk feel, with a bit of 13th Floor Elevators style celestial boogie and some general Holy Modal Rounders headfuckery tossed in to give this exercise in tape reverb fortitude some serious lift.

I’m also reminded of my favorite work of Neil Michael Haggerty in U.S. Ez, so imagine my elation when I found out they play as his backup band every now and again. The blitzkrieg of fuzz on “Massive Place” might make Mudhoney feel retarded. But enough of comparisons. Comparisons are lame. I’m listening to this record right now as we speak, and all that needs to be said is that it’s so fucking good. I hope Sic Alps sell a billion records.

Get this album, or else the terrorists will win.

I finally got around to listening to Chicago’s U.S. Girls, and it’s everything I could’ve hoped for. “Buzz Chant,” which you can find on WFMU’s latest Free Music Archive compilation, is gentle enough to subdue and hypnotize, but menacing enough to make an excellent Halloween season soundtrack. Speaking of that FMU comp, I know they’ve been giving these things out for free around NYC – anyone care to send me one? Puh-leeeze?! Anyway, I can’t do much better describing U.S. Girls than Scott W’s description from Beware of Blog, so I’ll let him talk: “Packing nothing more than a reel-to-reel tape deck, a mic, and 2 stomp boxes, U.S. Girls delivered a maelstrom of classic pop filtered through something unknowable and kinda crazy, I don’t know what it is. I’ll indulge the facile “A meets B” thing by saying imagine Phil Spector covered by The Conet Project, or The Dave Clark 5 as done by a gang of angry ghosts. It’s strangely still pop music, stripped of all affect, leaving behind the pure emotion and meaning of songs like “Bits and Pieces” and The Kinks’ “Days”.”

Finally, this jam has been a favorite of mine for a while. It’s from Atlanta’s The N.E.C., which stands for something awesome but I’ll be damned if I can remember. I discovered the N.E.C. through my friends Tight Leather (lots of SHOUT OUTS on today’s entry, eh?), who often trade shows between Lexington and Atlanta. The N.E.C. is, simply put, a nasty and fun Nuggets meets Psychocandy psych pop howler. The band has a full length coming out early next year on Double Phantom that I’m bound to discuss often on this blog, so in the meantime, enjoy “Young Wax” and get stoked.

Everything rules.

MP3 :::
Sic Alps – Bathman
Sic Alps – Sing Song Waitress
Sic Alps – Clubbing For $$
Sic Alps – Gelly Roll Gum Drop
U.S. Girls – Buzz Chant (Live on WFMU)
U.S. Girls – Prove It All Night
The N.E.C. – Young Wax

Love Black Moth Super Rainbow. They’ve been super busy as of late, from rereleasing all of their back catalogue (including Start a People, my favorite record of last year that wasn’t realy released last year), to supporting the Flaming Lips, to their Zodiac Girls release. And now they have a new rarities collection due for September called Drippers. Prolific. And you know, I think this Sesame Street image matches the feel of BMSR as well, so we’ll let it hang.

MP3 :::
Black Moth Super Rainbow – Happy Melted City
Dungen – Familj