Suche:told slant

Felix Walworth wurde in der Broome Street geboren. Bevor sie zu einer festen Größe in der New Yorker DIY-Szene der 2010er Jahre wurden, bevor sie ihr Markenzeichen - das auf einem Keyboardständer montierte BMSS-Schlagzeug - einführten, bevor sie eindringliche Reflexionen über Identität schrieben, die ihnen eine Kult-Anhängerschaft unter den Kids auf Tumblr einbrachten, waren sie ein Kind, das in den verschiedenen Stadtbezirken aufwuchs und eine Stadt liebgewann, die schließlich bis zur Unkenntlichkeit veränderte. ,What's Up" ist Walworths viertes Album als Told Slant, unter diesem Namen haben sie seit 2012 eindringliche Alben mit weitläufigem, nervenblanken Indie-Rock veröffentlicht. Das ist ihr New-York-Album: eine Sammlung von Songs darüber, wie man zusehen muss, wie sich die Heimatstadt verändert, und wie man spürt, wie sie einen im Gegenzug selbst verändert hat. Es ist ein Album über die Hingabe an ein prekäres Musikleben und all die Schönheit und Demütigungen, die damit einhergehen. Während es auf den ersten drei Told-Slant-Alben um Selbstreflexion und den Versuch ging, als Künstler zu überleben, handelt ,What's Up" davon, was passiert, wenn man sich ,fast schon manisch dem Projekt des Selbstausdrucks und der Subkultur in einer der feindseligsten Umgebungen der Welt" verschrieben hat und sich mit all den Menschen, Orten und Träumen auseinandersetzen muss, die auf diesem Weg verloren gegangen sind. In Songs wie ,Manhattan", ,Draw Blood", ,Three Anchovies" und dem Titeltrack fängt Walworth Trauer, Wut, Hingabe und flüchtige Momente der Verbundenheit ein und zeichnet das Verschwinden geliebter Stadtviertel, DIY-Räume, Freundschaften und Lebensweisen mit gleichermaßen schwerer und humorvoller Hand nach.,What's Up" ist zudem das bisher kollaborativste und abenteuerlichste Album von Told Slant. Es entstand über einen Monat hinweg in einem provisorischen Studio im Upstate New York und wurde größtenteils auf einem Acht-Spur-Spulenband aufgenommen - damit ist es die erste überwiegend analoge Veröffentlichung des Projekts, an der Hannah Pruzinsky, Jonny Baker, Ceci Sturman, Hellen Ballentine, Emily Sprague, Mari Maurice und Elijah Wolf mitgewirkt haben. Die Songs entstanden zum Teil aus Walworths Arbeit als Porträt- und Straßenfotograf während der Pandemie, als er die Straßen, Parks, Veranstaltungsorte und Ladenfronten, die sein Leben geprägt hatten, erneut besuchte - nur um festzustellen, dass viele davon verschwunden waren. Dieses Gefühl des Verlusts zieht sich durch das gesamte Werk, das mit ,Still Water" (2012) begann, sich über ,Going By" (2016) und ,Point the Flashlight and Walk" (2020) fortsetzte und seit langem von schmerzlich ehrlichen Songs über Selbstfindung, Freundschaft, Sterblichkeit und den langsamen Verlust der Verbundenheit mit der Gemeinschaft geprägt ist. Auf ,What's Up" richtet Walworth diesen Blick nach außen und dokumentiert nicht nur ihre eigene Beziehung zu New York, sondern auch die Kosten des Bleibens, des Schaffens und des Glaubens an eine Stadt und eine Musikkultur, die sie mitgeprägt haben.

Dena Miller grew up on a diet of folk before spending 6 years writing and exploring projects through Philly's punk scene, Oberlin's conservatory experimentalist and NY's DIY history before arriving at her debut album 'Woodpecker' . Think Waxahatchee, Told Slant & Moldy Peaches...
Black vinyl with inner sleeve lyrics & download.

Deer Scout’s debut full length Woodpecker is a record about memory and the subconscious. And like an unforgettable dream that keeps you puzzling over its riddles for days, it’s as packed with direct symbols as it is with ruminative haze. “I approach songwriting as a process of boxing things up, or putting away a time capsule,” explains front person Dena Miller, who wrote the album over a period of six years. It’s a culminating collection of the project’s many sounds and influences to date, from Philly’s punk cooperatives to Oberlin’s conservatory experimentalism to New York’s DIY history. At the center is Miller’s assured guitar fingerpicking and boldly clear voice, firmly grounded even as it gently probes uncertain emotional and musical terrain.

Raised by two folk musicians in Yonkers, Miller began recording songs as Deer Scout her freshman year of college in Philadelphia. There, she wrote Woodpecker’s earliest song “Synesthesia” about a train ride home from a basement show: “Night in the city / Big house on the corner / Her voice has the timbre of summers ago,” recalls Miller resonantly. After Miller’s transfer to Oberlin College, Deer Scout began touring DIY venues around the country and sharing stages with favorite artists including Waxahatchee and Told Slant. The twinned intimacy and intricacy of those two influences is reflected in the carefully adventurous arrangements on Woodpecker, which features, among other contributors, bass from close collaborator Ko Takasugi-Czernowin, cello from Zuzia Weyman, drums from Madel Rafter, and guitar from Miller’s father Mark—who also wrote the song “Peace with the Damage” and originally released it with his band Spuyten Duyvil in 2011.

Many of the songs on Woodpecker were written during periods of grief or change. “I used to sing myself to sleep as a baby and I think music still plays the same role in my life—it’s a way of self-soothing or seeking comfort,” explains Miller. “But there’s also part of it that comes from wanting to connect with people." Recorded and mixed primarily by Heather Jones at So Big Auditory in Philly with overdubs by Miller at home, Woodpecker is an exercise in portraying the incommunicable. “Cup”—about a relational psychology test called “a walk in the woods” that turns encounters with symbols into meaning—uses watery arpeggios, wintry strings, and roving bass to create a liminal sonic space, optimistic but tense. “Cowboy,” with airy layers of acoustic guitar riffs and Miller’s charmingly double tracked voice, takes its little fish, big pond inspiration from the character Joe Buck in Midnight Cowboy. And “Afterthought,” with its unexpectedly bright resolutions, is about God, love, and the complexity of empathy; “Heaven isn’t watching us,” sings Miller candidly over pedal steel.

Though Woodpecker is a record about uncertainty and the unknown, it’s also about compassion and connection—as Miller was able to find over the course of writing and recording this next chapter for Deer Scout and first release for Carpark, which she’s excited to at last share with the world.

The Works of John B. McLemore, the star of one of last years biggest podcasts, S-Town, which is coming out on Dais. The story behind this release is truly fascinating.. the music itself is ambient remixes of Tor Lundvall's best works, but with John's idiosyncratic slant on them, with some having been woven together using the horde of clocks he use to keep in his basement. This story is really worth a read if you get a chance."In September 2012, I received an e-mail from someone named John B. who said he had assembled a lengthy remix of my music, which also incorporated some of his own material. John asked if I'd mind if he posted this recording on YouTube, to which I agreed. He also mentioned that there was a second part to his mix that was "roughed out", but never completed. I was curious to hear both parts, so shortly afterwards, John mailed me two CDrs which I enjoyed very much. The recordings were hypnotic and haunting, evoking images of vast fields at twilight. I was especially fond of the second disc which had a darker atmosphere and featured more of John's original material, beginning with ghostly clock chimes and ending with a mysterious piece using dried seed pods and other cryptic sounds that slowly built-up into an intense, almost claustrophobic environment.

My correspondence with John lasted about two months. In one of his final e-mails, John said "I have to observe that your paintings seem to have a great deal of loneliness involved in them... even multiple characters seem to be together alone, so to speak... I really appreciate looking at your paintings as well as your music, I think I have connected with the spirit of them both as much as anyone can." He went on to discuss his struggles with depression, caring for his aging mom and his concerns about the future. I tried to encourage his music as a possible outlet, perhaps as a means to help transform his feelings of loneliness into a more content solitude. Always easy to say, but as I well know, not always easy to do.

In his last e-mail in late October 2012, John sent me a beautiful slideshow of his Fall flower beds and his dogs. I was touched and I told him how much watching his video had brightened my day. That was the last time I heard from him.

Last year, I visited John's YouTube channel to see if Part One of his mix was still posted, which it was, and still remains. I was shocked and saddened to read in the comments section that he had passed away. The comments also suggested that John had received some sort of national attention recently. This quickly led me to the S-Town podcast. Although I had mixed reactions after listening, I was thankful that S-Town shed more light on John and his remarkable life... but somehow, I just couldn't place the person in the podcast with the person I had corresponded with. Had I not listened to S-Town, I would have remembered John as a very private, somewhat dark and lonely person. He may have been these things, but there was obviously far more to him than that.

After finishing the final episode, I decided to play the second, unreleased CDr of John's recordings for the first time in years. Listening to his clock chimes ringing in the dark was an eerie and chilling moment. I was reminded of a line from my song "29" which says "I live with dreams and a lonely mind, my clock is set to a different time". I wondered what those lyrics might have meant to him.

John had mentioned that he wasn't satisfied with his final mix, but I felt his work was too special not to be heard. I hope that these recordings offer another glimpse into the creative mind of a unique, complex and gifted individual who tragically left this world all too early."

Tor Lundvall
January 17th, 2018

JOHN B.'s NOTES:

This is what was intended to be the second part of my Tor Lundvall Remix series. Unfortunately I am dissatisfied with it due to a few defects, and it is highly unlikely that I will ever be able to complete it. Still it serves as a testament to my interest in the work of Tor Lundvall that I made it this far. Defects are as follows: The first movement is too 'fussy', and the first section of the fifth movement seems a bit long and may bore the listener, but since it consisted of so many slow moving textures, I don't know how I could redo it and still achieve what I was wanting to accomplish. Additionally, this recording was done just days before my Father died, and there are many feelings of guilt associated with the time spent on it. If you are receiving this recording, either you are one of my better friends, or you are a great admirer of Tor Lundvall, and requested that I send it to you.

1st Part: Basically a track of me fiddling around with old clock bells, and air turbulence mixed with Tor Lundvall and Field Recordings of rain, birds, cicadas, frogs and such.

2nd Part: My interpretation of Lundvall's Dark Spring. This track was inspired by the music of Carl Michael von Hausswolff.

3rd Part: Very ambient Field Recordings inspired by the work of Francisco Lopez.

4th Part: A Very Quiet passage consisting of delicate Field Recordings.

5th Part: Music performed entirely by me inspired by the Darker paintings of Tor Lundvall. Most of the instruments on this piece consisted of dried seed pods from the plant; Showy Rattlebox (Crotolaria Spectabilis), that I had collected and dried the previous Fall. There are other sounds from my own environment as well.

This mix was assembled in the Late Fall of 2003. There are some very Quiet passages in this piece, so it requires a nearly Isolated listening environment... It should be heard After Midnight, in the Late Fall of the year, and, not surprisingly, a Very Long Attention span is a Prerequisite.

John B. McLemore
September 10, 2012