The Album Review Club - Week #194 (page 1303) - Ants From Up There - Black Country, New Road

RobMCFC said:
You were absolutely right to include it all in your post. Even if you hadn't have discussed it with threespires before the selection, anybody who has a story that closely tied to an artist or album under review should not be too shy in telling us about it.

I'll remind you of the driving force behind this thread, as listed on post #1:-

However, it got me thinking: given that some of us spend a lot of time on the thread, wouldn't it be nice if we were reviewing and commenting on albums that meant something to us? Even better, we could get an insight into why an album means so much to the person who selected it.

I would suggest that even with the quality of some of the stories people have told on this thread over the years, yours is the best yet, so I hope as many of our members read it as they can.
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Yeah we hadn't discussed this nomination beforehand. We mentioned the band in the odd post here and there over time, depending on the context at hand, as did OOB6, mostly in the playlist thread. But I never focused on this album and never mentioned any part of said story before. That bit was all coincidence.

I guessed early based on something spires said on the day relative to a discussion on gornik's album, and something he mentioned in the Greenleaf week. So thought I'd sit back and watch others unpick the clues.
 
Coatigan said:
Plus while we have had pre nomination early guesses before, it may have been the first time someone posted a cloaked clue to the nominator ahead of it!

Even once I thought I twigged the band though, there was still an intrigue to which album it would be. As noted, with 14 to pick from (and I would have liked any, probably). As soon as the Zabba (the man) clue dropped, I thought here we go.
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I deliberately didn't respond to your (not that) cloaked clue because it was better than the ones I had and I thought if I confirmed it's accuracy I wouldn't get as far as posting my own crap ones!
 
Coatigan said:
I'll start off by giving this a 10. Why?
Because this particular album, is My - Sule Skerry.

To paraphrase Bimbo, for those that don't get or remember the reference, it is an album that means something particular to me. It is of a time, of a place, and of a journey. It invokes specific memories, visuals, a sense of pace and mood, and a story.

None of which spires could have known obviously, and had he picked any of their other 14 albums, I would have skipped the story, and just focused on the music. However given it is this specific one he happened to have picked, why the hell not include it!

This nomination comes almost exactly 20 years since I first heard this album. Or rather, some version of this album. In this context, with this scenery:

View attachment 161285

The cars give a sense of scale, and that was how I first heard this album, in one of those cars.

The how why where, is not really imprtant, the mood is. They were really into their Raï music there at that particular time. I don't particularly dislike it per se, it is an entertaining enough form of music with some merit I guess, but pretty much everywhere I went seem to play bloody (Cheb) Khaled. If you don't know wtf I'm on about, think of that 'Desert Rose Ilehie-lei' song Sting did with (Cheb) Mami, when they were trying to push Raï to sell in the west, and Sting was doing, well what Sting always does, exploring shit. Imagine that. Everywhere! Cafes, shops, the lot. All the time!

So this particular journey, the long bus to the starting point, also played Khaled. By starting point, I mean the end of the road. Like, literally. The road physically just ended, not at a destination, or a car park or a point or junction. Just stopped, as if it had ran out. There, you got picked up by a 4x4, and away you go. Cross your heart and hope for the best, your man would maybe say his bismillah, and off you went into the total unknown.

View attachment 161287

Once in the car, there was very little, if any, chat. The driver dude spoke no english. Any pidgin arabic I might have attempted, would have been pointless anyway, as he was a proud Berber and would likely not have engaged. I would love to see a bird's eye view of how they drove, and what directions they took. Ther was no satnav back then. There were definitely no roads. Or tracks. And if there were, they soon disappeared with the shifting sands. They also seemed to defy physics, how a car can get up, and down a dune like that, you wouldn't think possible. As far as I could see, he had no compas anywhere visible. Or map. He just drove, and seemed to know where he was going. How, still can't work that out. They did travel in a group, of sorts, as you could at times see the other cars that set off with you in the distance, heading in roughly the same direction. But they would also disappear out of view for ages, and till they suddenly reappeared behind a dune, I would think, here we go, we are lost.

View attachment 161289

To get to the point, shortly after setting off, the driver put on the car cd player (fuck all radio to catch there). And it was, you guessed it, this album. Or some version of it. Pleasantly surprised it wasn't Khaled, started to embrace the tunes, the pace, and the scenery.

My love for the desert rock scene of the US already was well established at that point, so the more I took this in, the more I liked it and was intrigued. As pointed out, while it felt very of its context, and foreign to me, that familiarity was actually very comforting, in said context.

At one point I tried to engage, and jokingly pointed at the speaker, did an impression of air guitar riffing, and asked 'Brant Björk'? Suggesting, in my mind, that the guitar sounded like Brant's. He gave me a thumbs up. Without even glancing sideways at me. Unable to work out whether that was a polite shut the fuck up thumbs up or not, I said no more. When the album ended, he opened his glove compartment and pointed at CDs, assuming he was offering to change it. Mostly because I was enjoying it, and partly because I was worried one of them might be bloody Khaled, I shook my head and spun my forefinger, he got the message, and played it again. I used the chance to ask the name of the band together with rotating hand gesture, but fucked if I understood what he said. Partly, because well as seen from the clues round, it is a complex name anyway. And partly as wore his shawl wrapped around tlhis face. Which, as I learned, is actually pretty damn useful. Particularly when you have your window wide open so you can stick your arm out which h seemed the obligatory way to drive. Despite sand flying in your face (gives a whole new meaning to the album having grit), and the wind actually being hotter than what the temperature of the car might be. But whatever, I'm not one to fuss, I was more busy trying not to scrape my scalp on the rusty metal on the car soffit poking through the torn leather lining anyway! I didn't catch the name, but wasn't going to chance asking him to repeat it, so embraced the mystery, and carried on enjoying it. I don't know how many times we played the album on repeat, but it was a long journey and definitely more than 3. Didn't mind one bit though, in fact, the more I listened to it, the more I felt I liked it.

Eventually, our destination, an oasis, started to appear in the distance. Not the band, an actual one.


View attachment 161291

When we got there, I got out of the car, thanked him, and waved goodbye. As I was walking away, he shouted me over to his wide open window, arm still hanging out. Assuming I left something in the car, I went back. He proceeded to eject the cd, and hand it over to me through the window. No case, no sleeve or booklet with it, just, there, a burning hot cd out the player into your hands, in the middle of the fucking desert. I tried to offer him money for it, but could tell it was risking offending him, so I bowed my head gracefully, and that was that. Off he drove back, and I wrapped the cd in a spare t-shirt to stop it getting scratched (or melted), and popped it into my backpack.

The oasis had a tuareg campsite where we stayed. And had tea, and food with them etc. The bread was baked straight in the sand covered by ashes from the fire for the cold bight - yep, 'it had grit'! And the experience of the album and the groove and simplistic melody that got stuck in my head, was only further enhanced by the setting. Particularly when they played the drums and rhythms and chanting, and women did their rapid R-L-L-ing thing. All became a real mood in its own right, reflective of a pace and place. And a part of me kept thinking, what a gem that will be to take back to the UK!

View attachment 161295



Back in the UK, I still had no fucking clue what the band were called. It was a home-burnt cd, and all it said on it was 'Sony'. Fml. And back then, you couldn't just shezam this shit on a misic match app. Google obviously did exist, but I was hitting nothing.

But, I enjoyed listening to it regardless, played the cd for my circle of friends who were all into Kyuss and that branch of music. We had some right good times with it, and drunken discussions when questioned, what if it really IS Brant Bjork on the guitar, how would you ever know otherwise. What if the thumbs up was actually a 'gued guess'. Etc.

A couple of years later, amongst the pages of a brochure for a 'roots music' festival, I saw a picture (the same one off the album cover as we now know it) of a shaggy bunch in the desert. And read the description. Thought, here we go, maybe, just maybe. Heart racing, rushed straight to town to a music shop. Virgin (remember them?) didn't have it. A local small music shop did. They also had one of those headphones screwed to the wall, where you could scan a cd barcode and get a 30 second preview of key songs. I stuck them on, and, oh the joy. Bought it, got tickets to the gig, and loved it. Brought back the menories, grit and all. Saw them live again as they do tend to come here every so often.

Anyway, that's that. Re the music. Brought back some great memories, forced me to dig up old pictures that my kids have never actually seen. So thanks for that, truly. One day I'll do an attic tidy and try find the actual cd.

The rest has kind of been said already. Adding western instruments to middle eastern music (or vice versa) was nothing new. Page and Plant did it a few years earlier with their own trip to the desert, on the No Quarter project. Really well too! Sting did it. These guys flipped it. I like it, works well, adds the familiar that belfry says our brains reward. It creates a mood, which I find lingers. The singing, the lyrics meanung nothing, all that I take as part of it all. Was more than happy to listen to it again, and enjoyed the week.
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Beautiful mate. I think I will be reminiscing when I do my thoughts. Like you I spent time in the desert, 35 years ago for me, no cars though, camels.
 
Coatigan said:
I'll start off by giving this a 10. Why?
Because this particular album, is My - Sule Skerry.

To paraphrase Bimbo, for those that don't get or remember the reference, it is an album that means something particular to me. It is of a time, of a place, and of a journey. It invokes specific memories, visuals, a sense of pace and mood, and a story.

None of which spires could have known obviously, and had he picked any of their other 14 albums, I would have skipped the story, and just focused on the music. However given it is this specific one he happened to have picked, why the hell not include it!

This nomination comes almost exactly 20 years since I first heard this album. Or rather, some version of this album. In this context, with this scenery:
Click to expand...
I don't know where to begin after reading THAT, other than to give you a 10/10 on a write up that made me feel like I was there on the journey of discovery in both finding something you liked in an area that I've never been to, but now, feeling like I almost barely or nearly have. Sometimes a single like on sharing something that amazing or uncanny is simply not enough.

For a long Friday otherwise stuck buried under work issues, this read and brief virtual getaway in mind and spirit was, as the great and missed Benjamin Orr once sang "just what I needed".

Bravo!
 
GornikDaze said:
I’ve often thought about this… how many did you get for her, and do you regret it?
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Christ, just because it's the desert you think it's all middle ages. They are a nuanced people with a belief system that goes back generations.






2 camels and no. One of them looked at her funny and she objected to burying her own shit.
 
Coatigan said:
I'll start off by giving this a 10. Why?
Because this particular album, is My - Sule Skerry.

To paraphrase Bimbo, for those that don't get or remember the reference, it is an album that means something particular to me. It is of a time, of a place, and of a journey. It invokes specific memories, visuals, a sense of pace and mood, and a story.

None of which spires could have known obviously, and had he picked any of their other 14 albums, I would have skipped the story, and just focused on the music. However given it is this specific one he happened to have picked, why the hell not include it!

This nomination comes almost exactly 20 years since I first heard this album. Or rather, some version of this album. In this context, with this scenery:

View attachment 161285

The cars give a sense of scale, and that was how I first heard this album, in one of those cars.

The how why where, is not really imprtant, the mood is. They were really into their Raï music there at that particular time. I don't particularly dislike it per se, it is an entertaining enough form of music with some merit I guess, but pretty much everywhere I went seem to play bloody (Cheb) Khaled. If you don't know wtf I'm on about, think of that 'Desert Rose Ilehie-lei' song Sting did with (Cheb) Mami, when they were trying to push Raï to sell in the west, and Sting was doing, well what Sting always does, exploring shit. Imagine that. Everywhere! Cafes, shops, the lot. All the time!

So this particular journey, the long bus to the starting point, also played Khaled. By starting point, I mean the end of the road. Like, literally. The road physically just ended, not at a destination, or a car park or a point or junction. Just stopped, as if it had ran out. There, you got picked up by a 4x4, and away you go. Cross your heart and hope for the best, your man would maybe say his bismillah, and off you went into the total unknown.

View attachment 161287

Once in the car, there was very little, if any, chat. The driver dude spoke no english. Any pidgin arabic I might have attempted, would have been pointless anyway, as he was a proud Berber and would likely not have engaged. I would love to see a bird's eye view of how they drove, and what directions they took. Ther was no satnav back then. There were definitely no roads. Or tracks. And if there were, they soon disappeared with the shifting sands. They also seemed to defy physics, how a car can get up, and down a dune like that, you wouldn't think possible. As far as I could see, he had no compas anywhere visible. Or map. He just drove, and seemed to know where he was going. How, still can't work that out. They did travel in a group, of sorts, as you could at times see the other cars that set off with you in the distance, heading in roughly the same direction. But they would also disappear out of view for ages, and till they suddenly reappeared behind a dune, I would think, here we go, we are lost.

View attachment 161289

To get to the point, shortly after setting off, the driver put on the car cd player (fuck all radio to catch there). And it was, you guessed it, this album. Or some version of it. Pleasantly surprised it wasn't Khaled, started to embrace the tunes, the pace, and the scenery.

My love for the desert rock scene of the US already was well established at that point, so the more I took this in, the more I liked it and was intrigued. As pointed out, while it felt very of its context, and foreign to me, that familiarity was actually very comforting, in said context.

At one point I tried to engage, and jokingly pointed at the speaker, did an impression of air guitar riffing, and asked 'Brant Björk'? Suggesting, in my mind, that the guitar sounded like Brant's. He gave me a thumbs up. Without even glancing sideways at me. Unable to work out whether that was a polite shut the fuck up thumbs up or not, I said no more. When the album ended, he opened his glove compartment and pointed at CDs, assuming he was offering to change it. Mostly because I was enjoying it, and partly because I was worried one of them might be bloody Khaled, I shook my head and spun my forefinger, he got the message, and played it again. I used the chance to ask the name of the band together with rotating hand gesture, but fucked if I understood what he said. Partly, because well as seen from the clues round, it is a complex name anyway. And partly as wore his shawl wrapped around tlhis face. Which, as I learned, is actually pretty damn useful. Particularly when you have your window wide open so you can stick your arm out which h seemed the obligatory way to drive. Despite sand flying in your face (gives a whole new meaning to the album having grit), and the wind actually being hotter than what the temperature of the car might be. But whatever, I'm not one to fuss, I was more busy trying not to scrape my scalp on the rusty metal on the car soffit poking through the torn leather lining anyway! I didn't catch the name, but wasn't going to chance asking him to repeat it, so embraced the mystery, and carried on enjoying it. I don't know how many times we played the album on repeat, but it was a long journey and definitely more than 3. Didn't mind one bit though, in fact, the more I listened to it, the more I felt I liked it.

Eventually, our destination, an oasis, started to appear in the distance. Not the band, an actual one.


When we got there, I got out of the car, thanked him, and waved goodbye. As I was walking away, he shouted me over to his wide open window, arm still hanging out. Assuming I left something in the car, I went back. He proceeded to eject the cd, and hand it over to me through the window. No case, no sleeve or booklet with it, just, there, a burning hot cd out the player into your hands, in the middle of the fucking desert. I tried to offer him money for it, but could tell it was risking offending him, so I bowed my head gracefully, and that was that. Off he drove back, and I wrapped the cd in a spare t-shirt to stop it getting scratched (or melted), and popped it into my backpack.

The oasis had a tuareg campsite where we stayed. And had tea, and food with them etc. The bread was baked straight in the sand covered by ashes from the fire for the cold bight - yep, 'it had grit'! And the experience of the album and the groove and simplistic melody that got stuck in my head, was only further enhanced by the setting. Particularly when they played the drums and rhythms and chanting, and women did their rapid R-L-L-ing thing. All became a real mood in its own right, reflective of a pace and place. And a part of me kept thinking, what a gem that will be to take back to the UK!

View attachment 161295



Back in the UK, I still had no fucking clue what the band were called. It was a home-burnt cd, and all it said on it was 'Sony'. Fml. And back then, you couldn't just shezam this shit on a misic match app. Google obviously did exist, but I was hitting nothing.

But, I enjoyed listening to it regardless, played the cd for my circle of friends who were all into Kyuss and that branch of music. We had some right good times with it, and drunken discussions when questioned, what if it really IS Brant Bjork on the guitar, how would you ever know otherwise. What if the thumbs up was actually a 'gued guess'. Etc.

A couple of years later, amongst the pages of a brochure for a 'roots music' festival, I saw a picture (the same one off the album cover as we now know it) of a shaggy bunch in the desert. And read the description. Thought, here we go, maybe, just maybe. Heart racing, rushed straight to town to a music shop. Virgin (remember them?) didn't have it. A local small music shop did. They also had one of those headphones screwed to the wall, where you could scan a cd barcode and get a 30 second preview of key songs. I stuck them on, and, oh the joy. Bought it, got tickets to the gig, and loved it. Brought back the menories, grit and all. Saw them live again as they do tend to come here every so often.

Anyway, that's that. Re the music. Brought back some great memories, forced me to dig up old pictures that my kids have never actually seen. So thanks for that, truly. One day I'll do an attic tidy and try find the actual cd.

The rest has kind of been said already. Adding western instruments to middle eastern music (or vice versa) was nothing new. Page and Plant did it a few years earlier with their own trip to the desert, on the No Quarter project. Really well too! Sting did it. These guys flipped it. I like it, works well, adds the familiar that belfry says our brains reward. It creates a mood, which I find lingers. The singing, the lyrics meanung nothing, all that I take as part of it all. Was more than happy to listen to it again, and enjoyed the week.
Click to expand...
Great reflections. I have a similar white whale with a song called "Nobody Ever Got Killed In The A-Team" - a ska pop banger which I got on a crazed napster download session. The CD I burned it on was subsequently lost and there is no trace of it on the internet. One day I hope to have a similar redemption arc
 
Coatigan said:
I'll start off by giving this a 10. Why?
Because this particular album, is My - Sule Skerry.

To paraphrase Bimbo, for those that don't get or remember the reference, it is an album that means something particular to me. It is of a time, of a place, and of a journey. It invokes specific memories, visuals, a sense of pace and mood, and a story.

None of which spires could have known obviously, and had he picked any of their other 14 albums, I would have skipped the story, and just focused on the music. However given it is this specific one he happened to have picked, why the hell not include it!

This nomination comes almost exactly 20 years since I first heard this album. Or rather, some version of this album. In this context, with this scenery:

View attachment 161285

The cars give a sense of scale, and that was how I first heard this album, in one of those cars.

The how why where, is not really imprtant, the mood is. They were really into their Raï music there at that particular time. I don't particularly dislike it per se, it is an entertaining enough form of music with some merit I guess, but pretty much everywhere I went seem to play bloody (Cheb) Khaled. If you don't know wtf I'm on about, think of that 'Desert Rose Ilehie-lei' song Sting did with (Cheb) Mami, when they were trying to push Raï to sell in the west, and Sting was doing, well what Sting always does, exploring shit. Imagine that. Everywhere! Cafes, shops, the lot. All the time!

So this particular journey, the long bus to the starting point, also played Khaled. By starting point, I mean the end of the road. Like, literally. The road physically just ended, not at a destination, or a car park or a point or junction. Just stopped, as if it had ran out. There, you got picked up by a 4x4, and away you go. Cross your heart and hope for the best, your man would maybe say his bismillah, and off you went into the total unknown.

View attachment 161287

Once in the car, there was very little, if any, chat. The driver dude spoke no english. Any pidgin arabic I might have attempted, would have been pointless anyway, as he was a proud Berber and would likely not have engaged. I would love to see a bird's eye view of how they drove, and what directions they took. Ther was no satnav back then. There were definitely no roads. Or tracks. And if there were, they soon disappeared with the shifting sands. They also seemed to defy physics, how a car can get up, and down a dune like that, you wouldn't think possible. As far as I could see, he had no compas anywhere visible. Or map. He just drove, and seemed to know where he was going. How, still can't work that out. They did travel in a group, of sorts, as you could at times see the other cars that set off with you in the distance, heading in roughly the same direction. But they would also disappear out of view for ages, and till they suddenly reappeared behind a dune, I would think, here we go, we are lost.

View attachment 161289

To get to the point, shortly after setting off, the driver put on the car cd player (fuck all radio to catch there). And it was, you guessed it, this album. Or some version of it. Pleasantly surprised it wasn't Khaled, started to embrace the tunes, the pace, and the scenery.

My love for the desert rock scene of the US already was well established at that point, so the more I took this in, the more I liked it and was intrigued. As pointed out, while it felt very of its context, and foreign to me, that familiarity was actually very comforting, in said context.

At one point I tried to engage, and jokingly pointed at the speaker, did an impression of air guitar riffing, and asked 'Brant Björk'? Suggesting, in my mind, that the guitar sounded like Brant's. He gave me a thumbs up. Without even glancing sideways at me. Unable to work out whether that was a polite shut the fuck up thumbs up or not, I said no more. When the album ended, he opened his glove compartment and pointed at CDs, assuming he was offering to change it. Mostly because I was enjoying it, and partly because I was worried one of them might be bloody Khaled, I shook my head and spun my forefinger, he got the message, and played it again. I used the chance to ask the name of the band together with rotating hand gesture, but fucked if I understood what he said. Partly, because well as seen from the clues round, it is a complex name anyway. And partly as wore his shawl wrapped around tlhis face. Which, as I learned, is actually pretty damn useful. Particularly when you have your window wide open so you can stick your arm out which h seemed the obligatory way to drive. Despite sand flying in your face (gives a whole new meaning to the album having grit), and the wind actually being hotter than what the temperature of the car might be. But whatever, I'm not one to fuss, I was more busy trying not to scrape my scalp on the rusty metal on the car soffit poking through the torn leather lining anyway! I didn't catch the name, but wasn't going to chance asking him to repeat it, so embraced the mystery, and carried on enjoying it. I don't know how many times we played the album on repeat, but it was a long journey and definitely more than 3. Didn't mind one bit though, in fact, the more I listened to it, the more I felt I liked it.

Eventually, our destination, an oasis, started to appear in the distance. Not the band, an actual one.


When we got there, I got out of the car, thanked him, and waved goodbye. As I was walking away, he shouted me over to his wide open window, arm still hanging out. Assuming I left something in the car, I went back. He proceeded to eject the cd, and hand it over to me through the window. No case, no sleeve or booklet with it, just, there, a burning hot cd out the player into your hands, in the middle of the fucking desert. I tried to offer him money for it, but could tell it was risking offending him, so I bowed my head gracefully, and that was that. Off he drove back, and I wrapped the cd in a spare t-shirt to stop it getting scratched (or melted), and popped it into my backpack.

The oasis had a tuareg campsite where we stayed. And had tea, and food with them etc. The bread was baked straight in the sand covered by ashes from the fire for the cold bight - yep, 'it had grit'! And the experience of the album and the groove and simplistic melody that got stuck in my head, was only further enhanced by the setting. Particularly when they played the drums and rhythms and chanting, and women did their rapid R-L-L-ing thing. All became a real mood in its own right, reflective of a pace and place. And a part of me kept thinking, what a gem that will be to take back to the UK!

View attachment 161295



Back in the UK, I still had no fucking clue what the band were called. It was a home-burnt cd, and all it said on it was 'Sony'. Fml. And back then, you couldn't just shezam this shit on a misic match app. Google obviously did exist, but I was hitting nothing.

But, I enjoyed listening to it regardless, played the cd for my circle of friends who were all into Kyuss and that branch of music. We had some right good times with it, and drunken discussions when questioned, what if it really IS Brant Bjork on the guitar, how would you ever know otherwise. What if the thumbs up was actually a 'gued guess'. Etc.

A couple of years later, amongst the pages of a brochure for a 'roots music' festival, I saw a picture (the same one off the album cover as we now know it) of a shaggy bunch in the desert. And read the description. Thought, here we go, maybe, just maybe. Heart racing, rushed straight to town to a music shop. Virgin (remember them?) didn't have it. A local small music shop did. They also had one of those headphones screwed to the wall, where you could scan a cd barcode and get a 30 second preview of key songs. I stuck them on, and, oh the joy. Bought it, got tickets to the gig, and loved it. Brought back the menories, grit and all. Saw them live again as they do tend to come here every so often.

Anyway, that's that. Re the music. Brought back some great memories, forced me to dig up old pictures that my kids have never actually seen. So thanks for that, truly. One day I'll do an attic tidy and try find the actual cd.

The rest has kind of been said already. Adding western instruments to middle eastern music (or vice versa) was nothing new. Page and Plant did it a few years earlier with their own trip to the desert, on the No Quarter project. Really well too! Sting did it. These guys flipped it. I like it, works well, adds the familiar that belfry says our brains reward. It creates a mood, which I find lingers. The singing, the lyrics meanung nothing, all that I take as part of it all. Was more than happy to listen to it again, and enjoyed the week.
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That’s a very evocative story mate. The album deserves a high score for that. Plus it is very good :-)
 
RobMCFC said:
Aman Iman - Tinariwen

You can’t really go wrong with this album. Once you accept the vocals in a foreign language and go with the flow, it’s easy to get lost in the rhythms and melodies on offer. Most of the songs have a groove that you’d associate with African music, but the prominence of the guitar gives it a little more fizz.

The production is unfussy and lets the natural sound of the instruments shine. Looking on the album’s Wikipedia page, it seems that we have the regular array of guitars on offer, but it wouldn’t surprise me if there’s a few other-worldly strings strapped to sticks here.

The sound of the drums is natural, and the bass creates a liquid groove over which the guitars do their thing. The sound of those strings being plucked is so pleasing - it’s not unlike blues but without the regular scales that we’re used to listening to. It’s wonderful to hear natural talent and performance unfettered by modern gimmicks. This is the best use of technology in music, using state-of-the-art equipment to capture the sound of a band really going for it in a natural environment.

There are few, if any, weak tracks here, but I enjoyed the opener, “Cler Achel”, which is as good an advert for the album that you’ll get, and the closer “Izarharh Tenere” is a lovely slower piece. “”Ahimana” is hypntotic – it starts off with the vocalist sounding like he’s struggling to swallow some thick porridge, but it seen settles into a hypnotic groove with a local choir providing the backing. The bass and wah-wah on “Assouf” are particularly good.

A great choice from @threespires, clearly assisted by @Coatigan, and a comfortable 8/10.
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So much in this review I agree with. The highlight for me is the music slowly seeping into your head. From the initial dissonance of the vocals but they soon just become another instrument with another rhythm. The guitar and bass playing are a highlight but for me it was the whole package and how it made me feel.

@threespires original review and @Coatigan evocative piece just made this weeks nomination more special. Thanks for introducing it to me.

8/10
 
RobMCFC said:
You were absolutely right to include it all in your post. Even if you hadn't have discussed it with threespires before the selection, anybody who has a story that closely tied to an artist or album under review should not be too shy in telling us about it.

I'll remind you of the driving force behind this thread, as listed on post #1:-

However, it got me thinking: given that some of us spend a lot of time on the thread, wouldn't it be nice if we were reviewing and commenting on albums that meant something to us? Even better, we could get an insight into why an album means so much to the person who selected it.

I would suggest that even with the quality of some of the stories people have told on this thread over the years, yours is the best yet, so I hope as many of our members read it as they can.
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I think over the course of nearly four years we've all learnt (and forgotten) a lot about each other through the nominations and responses to them as well as the odd aside thrown in. The thread has evolved from that initial stated purpose as there were a lot of very personal stories attached to early initial nominations, seems inevitable really that would happen as it settled into a rhythm.

That said, it would be hard to beat Coatigan's story on this one and it isn't even his nomination!

Speaking of which, a[pologies to @Coatigan and @GornikDaze for the non engagement with the last two picks. I did actually manage two listens of the former before heading off to the Scottish Isles on honeymoon but the impressions were that there was little to raise it above a lot of generic "rock" records, not what I had expected from the introduction and reviews. GornickDaze's pick came while we were away and to be fair we weren't doing much driving if we could help it and I didn't have time otherwise to listen to music so there was a bit of a cursory initial listen before I allowed my good lady to overrule the music choices. I suspect though that my impressions of it would have been going the same way.

And to this week's pick. I dipped my toe in the water of the discussion a few weeks ago about listening to music where the singing is not in English. My son currently listens to a lot of Brazilian/ Portuguese music and I previously mentioned Natalie Clavier, Argentinian and with a very evocative voice so I had reasonable hopes for this. I allowed myself a bit of a listen while sneaking off to play a bit of golf but the drive wasn't long enough to really get into it and although we faced a six hour+ drive home yesterday we were still on democratically agreed musical choices.

I have had a listen this morning though and will give it proper attention. The voice so far is a bit of a barrier but I'll take what others have said about it becoming less obviously so on repeated listens.
 
journolud said:
I think over the course of nearly four years we've all learnt (and forgotten) a lot about each other through the nominations and responses to them as well as the odd aside thrown in. The thread has evolved from that initial stated purpose as there were a lot of very personal stories attached to early initial nominations, seems inevitable really that would happen as it settled into a rhythm.

That said, it would be hard to beat Coatigan's story on this one and it isn't even his nomination!

Speaking of which, a[pologies to @Coatigan and @GornikDaze for the non engagement with the last two picks. I did actually manage two listens of the former before heading off to the Scottish Isles on honeymoon but the impressions were that there was little to raise it above a lot of generic "rock" records, not what I had expected from the introduction and reviews. GornickDaze's pick came while we were away and to be fair we weren't doing much driving if we could help it and I didn't have time otherwise to listen to music so there was a bit of a cursory initial listen before I allowed my good lady to overrule the music choices. I suspect though that my impressions of it would have been going the same way.

And to this week's pick. I dipped my toe in the water of the discussion a few weeks ago about listening to music where the singing is not in English. My son currently listens to a lot of Brazilian/ Portuguese music and I previously mentioned Natalie Clavier, Argentinian and with a very evocative voice so I had reasonable hopes for this. I allowed myself a bit of a listen while sneaking off to play a bit of golf but the drive wasn't long enough to really get into it and although we faced a six hour+ drive home yesterday we were still on democratically agreed musical choices.

I have had a listen this morning though and will give it proper attention. The voice so far is a bit of a barrier but I'll take what others have said about it becoming less obviously so on repeated listens.
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Hope you had a great honeymoon - apologies unnecessary. There’s nothing wrong with a generic rock record ;)
 
mrbelfry said:
Great reflections. I have a similar white whale with a song called "Nobody Ever Got Killed In The A-Team" - a ska pop banger which I got on a crazed napster download session. The CD I burned it on was subsequently lost and there is no trace of it on the internet. One day I hope to have a similar redemption arc
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Made harder possibly by the amount of mistagging there was on Napster? I assume you've already done this but have you tried recruiting people to the cause on the likes of r/ska ? A quick Google suggests that ska rarities collectors tend to hang about on skaboom.com but if that's not the case there will probably be a particular forum where the uber collectors do congregate. Good luck on your continued mission don't go full Ahab!
 
Saddleworth2 said:
So much in this review I agree with. The highlight for me is the music slowly seeping into your head. From the initial dissonance of the vocals but they soon just become another instrument with another rhythm. The guitar and bass playing are a highlight but for me it was the whole package and how it made me feel.

@threespires original review and @Coatigan evocative piece just made this weeks nomination more special. Thanks for introducing it to me.

8/10
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'Seeps' is exactly the very word to describe it imo.
 
journolud said:
I think over the course of nearly four years we've all learnt (and forgotten) a lot about each other through the nominations and responses to them as well as the odd aside thrown in. The thread has evolved from that initial stated purpose as there were a lot of very personal stories attached to early initial nominations, seems inevitable really that would happen as it settled into a rhythm.

That said, it would be hard to beat Coatigan's story on this one and it isn't even his nomination!

Speaking of which, a[pologies to @Coatigan and @GornikDaze for the non engagement with the last two picks. I did actually manage two listens of the former before heading off to the Scottish Isles on honeymoon but the impressions were that there was little to raise it above a lot of generic "rock" records, not what I had expected from the introduction and reviews. GornickDaze's pick came while we were away and to be fair we weren't doing much driving if we could help it and I didn't have time otherwise to listen to music so there was a bit of a cursory initial listen before I allowed my good lady to overrule the music choices. I suspect though that my impressions of it would have been going the same way.

And to this week's pick. I dipped my toe in the water of the discussion a few weeks ago about listening to music where the singing is not in English. My son currently listens to a lot of Brazilian/ Portuguese music and I previously mentioned Natalie Clavier, Argentinian and with a very evocative voice so I had reasonable hopes for this. I allowed myself a bit of a listen while sneaking off to play a bit of golf but the drive wasn't long enough to really get into it and although we faced a six hour+ drive home yesterday we were still on democratically agreed musical choices.

I have had a listen this morning though and will give it proper attention. The voice so far is a bit of a barrier but I'll take what others have said about it becoming less obviously so on repeated listens.
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What has also become apparent on this thread, is that people do often follow-up the topical tangential mentions, and they sometimes turn out to be worthwhile.
And this week too has seen a few added to my list, between spires' discarded shortlist items, and others mentioning what it reminds them of.

On that note, since Portugese/Brazilian isn't something that comes up often, two imo notable mentions. Umbra, by Cabrita. And Chris Stout's Brazilian theory are both albums worth giving a spin.
 
mrbelfry said:
Great reflections. I have a similar white whale with a song called "Nobody Ever Got Killed In The A-Team" - a ska pop banger which I got on a crazed napster download session. The CD I burned it on was subsequently lost and there is no trace of it on the internet. One day I hope to have a similar redemption arc
Click to expand...
Be careful what you wish for. I've often found myself on "missions" to track down long forgotten or half remembered tracks from my younger days. Mostly fairly easy and successful tasks to be fair but then some of them I've listened to and then thought, nah, not as good as I remember it.
 
Coatigan said:
Na I wouldn't have had the balls to nominate it! So kudos on being bold.
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I'm quite a sensitive soul but for a period of my career I had a job that involved going around resolving cock-ups and so I used to rock up at places where there were some quite annoyed people (all wimpy white collar stuff so no chance of being chucked off a building or anything). Most people were still reasonable and polite but occasionally as the person who represented the company they now intensely disliked I would face some creative insults. My favourite one was being introduced as 'this is the guy from Boozehounds and Crackwhores Inc, we don't know which one of those he is yet'.

So though I remain a sensitive soul it did teach me to be philosophical in the face of damning criticism of your offering!
 
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