A review: “Riceboy Sleeps” by Jónsi & Alex

Riceboy Sleeps is a collaboration between Jón Þór Birgisson, a.k.a Jónsi, and his partner, Alex Somers of Parachutes. My initial thought was, this is nice. I mean. Who can ever call something hailing from Iceland and from Jónsi not nice? The calm of the strings like carefree wind through your hair. Immaculate music.

But the thing is. When I listen to Sigur Ros, it is like a picture of a boy holding onto a balloon. When I listen to Riceboy Sleeps, I cannot shake the image of the balloon floating aimlessly in midair, with the frail string just breezing along the current in midair.

I guess what I am trying to say is, Jónsi played a huge part when it comes to Shoegazing music for Sigur Ros. He has been around all along that we forget how important he is until he is gone. He is the boy that holds the balloon – the music – in place. Without him, it is just another one of those helium balloons you let off to the sky at special occasions with no specific destinations to go to.

Jónsi takes a big rest in Riceboy Sleeps (hence, the title perhaps?), leaving ample room for Amiina’s strings and the Kópavogsdætur Choir to take over. It is a sleepy calm throughout Happiness, Atlas Song and part of Indian Summer. And when Jónsi finally makes an appearance in the middle of Track 3, you kind of cherish every bar he sings because the previous songs are like minutes building you up for his return. But once he is gone, the rest of the album is as plain as the white fields in Iceland.

Riceboy Sleeps sounds pretty much the same from beginning till the end. There were not much dynamics from Amiina, and the Kópavogsdætur Choir did nothing climatical like Jónsi did. It is pretty much like background music for a movie that has not been made yet. Thinking back about it now, it is hard to pinpoint which song is which without checking my iTunes playlist while the song is playing, save Indian Summer, only because and when Jónsi sings. Perfect for playing back-to-back  as you go to sleep though.

For what it is worth, Riceboy Sleeps still provides the same kind of comforter cocooned around you like Sigur Ros did. Kind of like the warming up to something much bigger inside an enclavement. If that even makes sense.

HERE is Indian Summer. Listen to it. Wait for 6:20. It is worth your while.

You can aslo stream the album here.

If I wasted your beauty, I’ll ignite it somehow

Sometimes words are not necessary. Click. Listen. Dream.

Till the end barline do us part

Duets are like holy matrimonies in music. They are meant to be matches made in the Heaven of five-stave scores and crotchety notes holding hands with slurs and ties, having pianissimo tenderness and fortissimo passion in 4/4 time.

You have men and wives like Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan, Ola Klüft and Sarah Isaksson (Pills), Gary Lightbody and Martha Wainwright (Set the Fire to the Third Bar), Justin Furstenfeld and Imogen Heap (Congratulations), Joshua Radin and Schulyer Fisk (Paperweight), Ben Gibbard and Jen Wood (Nothing Better), Torquil Campbell and Amy Millan (Heart), and if you may, even Jason Mraz and Colbie Calliat (Lucky).

Like timeless couples, these duos are hard to tear apart and mess with. They may try, but the effect will never be the same. Like the first kiss you get from your first love. When Hannigan went to sing Wainwright’s part with Lightbody, it might as well work, but you know that taste in your mouth that it can never compare to her many duets with Rice in The Blower’s Daughter or 9 Crimes.

And with every female vocalists Rice had to accompany his sets after Hannigan left, you know there will never be another woman who can hold it as well as Hannigan when she does Cold Water or Sleep Don’t Weep. Heck, Mraz sang Lucky with Penny Tai, and looked what a mess she made. It’s OK, Mraz, you’ll find your match someday.

When I heard Rachael Yamagata and Ray LaMontagne together, I knew instantly it was the right marriage. Like a girl marrying the boy she played hopscotch with when they were 8. They are mirrors of each other. If LaMontagne were a female vocalist, he may as well sound like Yamagata, and vice versa.

They carried the same weight in their voice, and the same sadness that when blended together in Duet, the sad song ain’t so sad after all. As long as they have each other.

My sister is getting married tomorrow, and I thought I should write a post to commemorate this wonderful day for her. I doubt she even knows this blog exists, but if she shares the same romanticism as I, this would be the song I will dedicate to her and her husband.

I wish you love. So, cheers.

Download the aptly named Duet from Rachael Yamagata’s Elephants… Teeth Sinking into Heart HERE.

Misery loves making a record

I don’t know about you, but there’s always a sense of romanticsm surrounding musicians. Behind every brooding bard, seems to be an epic tale. When I think about it, that does make sense. No one just decides to pick up a guitar and endure the mother-fucking pain on their fingertips for no particular reason.

Like Ray Lamontagne and his inspirational epiphany, Justin Vernon, better known as Bon Iver has a tale to tell too. Broken, beaten and battered, Vernon retired to his father’s cabin in the middle of a Wisconsin jungle, amidst freezing frostbites and howling winds to find solace.

And in that freezing cabin, for 3 months, he recorded his debut LP; For Emma, Forever Ago. It was unplanned. It was never meant to be. Going into isolation, Vernon brought along his beat-up guitar for company and just allowed his loneliness to take over. Recorded strictly in his cabin with his Mac and whatever basic instrumentation he could lay his hands on, For Emma was conceived to critical acclaim.

Listening to his record, I cannot say I’m impressed. And yet I understand why the critics hailed it like it’s the 2nd coming. The entire album captures the sense of loneliness with such grace. The production as raw as the wintery jungle and Vernon’s falsetto vocals captivates you, reeling in the sense of hopelessness, painting an image of a man isolating himself to wait for death.

The effects are really amazing. In Flume, Vernon cleverly uses an e-bow (a magnetic tool that vibrates the guitar strings to produce an intense sound) to maximum effect while the title track features broken hearted trombones that accentuates the whole cabin mystery.

The problem personally, is that Vernon’s songwriting is not nearly as strong as the mood he sets. His songs lack dynamism that you’d expect from a true polished songwriter. An entire 4 minute track sounds similar, no rise, no fall, no change. After listening to the record 5 times through, not a song managed to force itself into my head. I remember no tune, nor do I have the drive to listen to it again.

If you read every professional review out there, you’d notice that when introducing For Emma, they must mention the whole cabin drama. Now I begin to wonder, without that back story, would people still appreciate this record for what it is?

Let me get this straight. Bon Iver captures the mood perfectly with his debut LP. The setting was simply stunning and I consider the production of the album virtually flawless. The fall however, begins with the lack of impressive songwriting. For whatever acclaim it garnered, I think it is completely over rated just as how I think Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is.

Listen to Skinny Love, and judge for yourself.

Of life, love and death

I guess I’ve been depressed lately. I’m not sure why. Something about airplanes maybe. So while some of my friends were happily diddling about at Urbanscapes, I rebelled against sunshiny fan fares and hid under the sheets.

Oh but I wasn’t alone. I’ve got company. It’s kinda of a combination of sub-par yawn yawn company that is thankfully neutralized by something more astonishing.

When I mention sub-par, I’m referring to this book I’ve been reading. It’s called Urban Odysseys: KL Stories. The title itself is a giveaway to anyone who has at least some form of intelligence, so yea, it’s a collection of short stories about KL written by supposedly up and coming, young Malaysian writers.

I don’t know why but there are at least 3 foreign writers in this book. Which is blasphemy considering it’s an avenue for local writers to show off their  craft. Anyway, it’s bad company simply because the stories are pretty much bland. Most of them have dog poo for a plot and recycles the same old Yasmin Ahmad heartstrings shit that cannot even kid a 5 yr old anymore.

I will single out Joanne Chin’s Clear Skies and Lee Eeleen’s Scenes from the Shopping Complex to be the only worthy read. The rest, I can shove it down my incinerator chute (if I had one to begin with). I’ve got a big complain about the local story telling scene, especially when it comes to books and film. Granted, I’m guilty for not being the biggest supporter (I’m trying to change that!) of the local arts, but what I’ve seen so far appals me. The stories in Urban Odysseys are drier than a 70 year old’s cunt. I practically have to force myself to finish it and at the end of each story, I go, WTF!? What was the point of that utter nonsense?

Let’s talk about film. Will you please stop doing that nonsense heart string tugging crap anymore Yasmin? Let’s try something different shall we? Or how about TV? Please no more Project Runway Malaysia. Or Ampang Medikal. Or So you think you can dance Malaysia. Fresh ideas please.

Celeste went to the screening of Free Flicks, and came home unsurprisingly disappointed. In her very own words, pointless. Now I trust her taste in a good solid story and if she said it was pointless, I believe her. She did mention a few worthy films – Kolam and whatnot, so to be fair there could be decent films out there but in a nut shell, we’ve got a long way to go. Oh yea she just turned 24, so everyone, say it with me.

Happy Birthday Celeste!

So what do I do now? Well, I turn to my brilliant  company for grace.

My old buddy from Dublin, birthplace of Guinness. He’s been busy these days. First writing a song for Woman of the Century, Aung San Suu Kyi and now, lending voice to the Dalai Lama by contributing another song to the Save Tibet CD, Songs for Tibet – The art of peace.

Listen. Listen. Just listen.