hissyfit: This Weekend

Friday, 21 February 2014

This Weekend

I know, I know.
It's been a while since I've put pen to paper and written something meaningful.
I know that you're all desperate for some fresh revelation or at least the odd bon mot...
I've been away.
Not exactly away, more absent than present I guess.
The writing and recording process can do that to you.
You rattle your sabers and find that you have feck all to say...
'To the Bone' will be available to you all soon.
I hope that you'll like its... slightness.
Meanwhile, Di's away with family so I have a weekend to plan for myself.
I intend to:
- Drink too much coffee.
- Eye the whiskey bottle and resist.
- Discover the joys of the 'Mood' playlists on 'Spotify'. I currently cannot get past 'Coffeehouse'. It seems that everyone wants to be Bon Ivor at the moment. I'd rather that than Oasis but, with so many towels on the beach I'm wondering where I'm going to sit...
Ah, here's Paul Simon; 'Bookends' succinct genius breaks that whispering spell.
Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you

That's the song.

Brilliant!
- Finally finish reading Ron Rash's wonderful, 'The Cove' (raw and terribly beautiful) so that I can reach for the next on the shelf: Willy Vlautin's 'Lean on Me Pete'.
- That'll lead me on to reassessing Richmond Fontaines back catalogue; inevitably lingering long on 'Post to Wire'.
- Finish watching the Ray LaMontagne concert on Sky Arts and wonder why such a beautiful singer leaves me so cold as a performer...
- Lose a £10 bet on the England v Ireland match to a fuzzy faced Paddy sailor who doesn't need the cash and already has too much of mine.
- Wonder at how Swansea City can play such technically beautiful football without putting it in the onion net.
- Watch that second new 'Star Trek' movie knowing I'll resent the loss of the 90 minutes.
- Rewatch 'The Master' and 'Before the Devil Knows You're Dead' in deference to the late great Philip Seymour Hoffman.
- Fill in the metadata and PRS spreadsheets (hate 'em) in preparation for the release of 'To the Bone'.
- Relisten to the final mixes and mither.
- Wonder why I am compelled to secretly dress like the bastard son of Billy the Fish and Jesus Christ. And you thought him a virgin?
Why not write to me here and tell me how your weekend's going; give me an idea or two beyond reshaping my facial hair and wondering what three curries in a row will do for my digestion.

8 comments:

Meetwood Flac21 February 2014 at 13:40
That sounds like a pretty full weekend to me. Don't mention Jesus, or are you just jumping on the bandwagon (see my facebook wall). I'm off to see Chris Hill and the Distant Stars play the Chattery in Swansea tomorrow night. In a stroke of genius, Wales are playing France tonight so there shouldn't be a plague of drunken zombie-like Welshmen playing chicken with my car on The Kingsway tomorrow. Will continue playing the new Henry Priestman album (very good and very grumpy old man) - and the Temples debut album (retro and tuneful). Maybe a bit of whisky action on Sunday.
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Hissyfit21 February 2014 at 14:46
I'll check out Chris and Henry this weekend.
Currently watching the curling final; bar set high...
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Anonymous21 February 2014 at 14:47
This weekend i will be mostly
watching breaking bad (on to series 4)
playing Morrissey's complete back catalogue on shuffle (even the dodgy maladjusted and southpaw grammar)
reading fan Rhodes amelie like this is life and martin amis's Lionel asbo and wondering if it makes me a liberal snob to find it so funny
seeing if i can avoid be humiliated by my son playing risk
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Hissyfit21 February 2014 at 14:56
Ha! Your Best of 13 is the soundtrack to the curling David.
Aptly gloomy in places.
Never loved Mozza like I loved The Smiths...
I miss watching Breaking Bad; the arc of the drama gathers apace... stone cold brilliant series...
I've eyed 'this is life' and have just brought it for 0.01p from Amazon; seems a romantic folly that would suit me better than Amis's "grosteque poetry"... Reminds me that I must put my £2 on the lottery...
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Anonymous21 February 2014 at 15:10
I agree re mozza only viva hate comes close to smiths and that is due to vini reilly, since then he seems to be happy to surround himself with mediocracy in terms of guitar players.
the curling is a painful watch
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Anonymous22 February 2014 at 10:52
Sounds like you've got a busy weekend,Trev. Over here my 'weekend' is Saturday as I work a 6 day week. Usually I'm out with the kids for a game of footie before coming home for lunch.
Today, my wife has taken the lads the visit Grandpa so I've been left with some odd jobs to do around the house before I start cooking to a background of new albums from The Skinner Group, Temples and Eddi Reader. All this before the 'big' game. Boro v Leeds, so I'd better get a move on!
Phil
Tel Aviv
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Hissyfit23 February 2014 at 21:33
Think that you got me into them Phil: I've managed to get into The Head and the Hearts new album this weekend. 'Let's Be Still' is strangely... moving.
Hope Leeds did ok; lost touch with footie of late...
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‘Jones’ is Trevor Jones; principle songwriter with the critically acclaimed duo Miracle Mile, where he works alongside collaborator, arranger and musical partner Marcus Cliffe. Together they have produced nine albums, the latest of which was 2012’s ‘In Cassidy’s Care’, rated ‘Album of the Month’ by HiFi News, with respected journalist Johnny Black noting that Miracle Mile were “far and away the most unfairly unsung musical wizards ever to emerge from this sceptered isle. Big on memorable tunes wrapped around honest-to-goodness emotionally involving lyrics.”

Trevor Jones has also previously produced four solo albums: ‘Hopeland’ (2009), ‘Keepers’, (2010), ‘To the Bone’ (2014) and ‘Happy Blue’ (2016). Co-produced again with Marcus Cliffe, ‘Carver’s Law is another triumph of intimacy.
Previous critical acclaim for Trevor Jones:

“Gorgeous, as ever. Trevor Jones finds the poetry in real life; gently beautiful and genuinely moving. You may cry.” The Sunday Times

“Masterpieces of subtlety and observation clothed in sumptuous, lush melodies.” R2

“Jones is in a class of one. Near-perfect explorations of the human heart. The beauty on offer here is enough to make you weep. It did me.” Americana UK

“Achingly tender.” Folk Radio UK

“Intellectually as well as emotionally engaging.” MOJO

"Meticulously orchestrated, careful and complex, this is canny songwriting leavened by bona fide humanity." Q

“Moves you to tears and refreshes the soul. Scintillating.” Maverick

"Gentle enchantment. The loveliest melodies you've ever heard.” Uncut

“Classic pop songwriting, gorgeously realised. Jones has compiled possibly the finest catalogue of adult pop. Gently beautiful and genuinely moving” The Times

Miracle Mile: A User's Guide by Johnny Black

Despite being based in a home studio in a rural backwater on the outskirts of West London, Miracle Mile chose to name themselves after a fictional gold rush main street half a world away where, according to adventure yarn spinner Jack London, ragged 49ers would blow their hard-won nuggets on booze and broads.
They apply a similarly unorthodox approach to their career in general. The band’s core duo of singer/guitarist Trevor Jones and multi-instrumentalist/arranger Marcus Cliffe have been relentless in their pursuit of the perfect song. Not the fastest, the gnarliest or the loudest, not even the most instantly commercial, but the song whose melody, lyrics, arrangement, performance and spirit might stand the test of time, giving pleasure to listeners not just for years but centuries.
They’d be the first to admit they haven’t yet found that perfect song and maybe never will, but I’d argue that their albums — the documentary evidence of that search — deserve a place alongside the best work of time-tested tunesmiths as elevated as Randy Newman, Elvis Costello or Tom Waits.

Marcus Cliffe wasn’t yet on board when the first album, Bicycle Thieves, arrived in 1997 but already it was evident that frontman Jones didn’t fit in with the prevailing mode. There was no rage, bitterness or self-loathing in his songs and nothing at all turned up to eleven. Instead, he offered meticulously orchestrated slices of ordinary human life, transforming the mundane into the marvellous with carefully crafted lyrics sincerely delivered. Even here, though, the hypnotic sample-based "Recycletwo" revealed a willingness to experiment that marked Jones out as more than just a pop craftsman in the vein of Crowded House or Aztec Camera.

What had started essentially as a recording project had become a five-piece live band by the time the follow-up, Candids, was released in 1998. Loaded with nagging guitar hooks and dynamic vocal interplay, it included one particularly affecting piece, "Small Ad," which featured just one line of lyric, the heart-rending couplet, "Baby’s shoes, never used." With those four words, Jones conjured up a yawning abyss of grief that other writers might struggle to evoke in an entire album.

Jones quickly realised that live performance was not his forte and retired to the womb of the studio for 1999’s third album, Slow Fade, which also saw the birth of the partnership that would lift Miracle Mile higher still above the norm. Marcus Cliffe, in demand as a player for Steve Earle, Emmylou Harris, Daniel Lanois, Mark Knopfler and others, was drafted in on upright bass.
Immediately the music took a more intimate turn, with Jones exploring the little things that illuminate the big things. Almost every song offers up at least one unforgettable line, like "I'd rather be ashes than dust" in "Everybody Loved You," or the concept of filling the void left by his loss of faith "with despair and metalware" in "Starwatching."
Slow Fade was further enhanced by the delicately filigreed swirls and swoops of England’s finest steel guitar maestro, B.J. Cole, whose style sat so well with Jones and Cliffe that he has become virtually a full-time member of the band.

And then, out of nowhere, catastrophe struck. Trevor Jones’ beloved sister died in tragic circumstances. It’s typical of the man that, rather than wallowing in his grief as he had every right to do, he dealt with his loss in the quiet, honest dignity of "Sister Song," the achingly lovely tribute that concludes the fourth album, Alaska. It can’t have been coincidence that the album, despite its meltingly beautiful musical landscape, was named for one of the coldest places on earth.

By the time of Stories We Could Tell in 2004, Miracle Mile were drawing critical plaudits in every significant British magazine and newspaper, along with comparisons to such pop pluperfectionists as Prefab Sprout and the Blue Nile. Critics were noting that Miracle Mile was fast becoming a repository of timelessly romantic music fueled by the same shamelessly emotional human concerns that inspired the great standards. More than this, it was being noticed that while most bands go into decline after two or three albums, Miracle Mile were getting better, perhaps because they’d avoided the trap of trying to be contemporary, and had no need to be more outrageous than the competition, largely because they didn’t see music as a competitor sport.

The sixth album, Glow, showed up in 2005 and found Jones and Cliffe further expanding their musical palette mixing Celtic folksiness with slow, semi-industrial percussion on the inspirational "An Average Sadness," blending Badalamenti guitars with Bacharach horns on "What Kate Did Next," and opening "Strange Sympathy" with a beautifully synthesised string orchestration before letting the song melt seamlessly into a laid-back country-rock rumination on the gap between aspiration and acquisition. Glow was also their most lavishly packaged disc, gorgeously presented at no small cost to themselves.

Album No. 7, Limbo, offered fifteen songs overflowing with sensitively wrought melodies and heart-fluttering lyricism. If it’s not a contradiction in terms, Limbo was even more quietly passionate than usual, deliciously understated and, at times, devastatingly tear-jerking.

‘Cassidy’s Care’ followed in 2012 and received similar critical acclaim.
Miracle Mile may just be too concerned with timeless quality for their own short-term commercial good. They’ll never sink a fang into the jugular when they can plant a whisper of a kiss on that sensitive spot at the nape of the neck and set off a tiny ripple that will, in the fullness of time, explode in the heart. I, for one, wouldn’t want it any other way.
Johnny Black

“Trevor Jones finds the poetry in real life; Marcus Cliffe anchors it in the sweetest pop. Gorgeous as ever. You may cry.”
Sunday Times

"Gentle enchantment. The loveliest melodies you've ever heard."
UNCUT

“Gorgeous melodies, hooks galore, intelligent lyrics that demand and repay careful listening, beautifully produced instrumentation, and an overall effect that combines poignancy and joy in equal measure. Music and words come together in a state as close to perfection as makes no difference, and leaves you with a delicious ache that makes you hug yourself with the sheer overwhelming joy of hearing such wonderful music. The beauty on offer here is enough to make you weep. It did me."
Americana UK

“A little oasis illuminated by musical creativity, glimpsed like a lovely mirage. Intelligent tunefulness that doesn’t kowtow to passing trends has always been as rare as fish fingernails, but it’s here.” Mojo

“Classic pop songwriting, gorgeously realised” The Times

“Moves you to tears and refreshes the soul. Scintillating.”
Maverick

“A tender sadness. Songs that have universal resonance.”
Netrhythms

"Trevor Jones has produced a gorgeous pop album that few will hear — unless there’s justice in the world.’ The Wall Street Journal

“Jones has compiled possibly the finest catalogue of adult pop. Gently beautiful and genuinely moving”
The Sunday Times