Holding Ides Forever In Prisms

Man, I've fallen hard for this song. Whilst Saturday was all about White Hills and Houndstooth, and Sunday was chilling on the Porch(es.) with Baby Birds Don't Drink Milk, I was always coming back to 'Prisms', the new single from Ides (AKA Alanna McArdle from Joanna Gruesome, who also have a new-ish track out) as part of Art Is Hard Records' Postcard Club. The step-up in production values (her earlier stuff is considerably lo-fi, and whilst the earnestness is evident, McArdle's power is somewhat muted) is a huge improvement, and instead of a maudlin curiosity we have a behemoth of heart wrenching capabilities. Think of Low's 'Laser Beam' from Things We Lost In The Fire - McArdle has that haunted delivery that Mimi Parker embodies, so when she sings It was over before it began you are lost at sea, never to return.

I seriously cannot explain how much this track has blindsided me. If Ides only launches this song before Joanna Gruesome swallows up McArdle whole, it won't matter - 'Prisms' is a minor masterpiece.

You can get 'Prisms' from AIH's Postcard Club here. Ides is playing the UK's B's (Bristol, Brighton, Bournemouth) in August and finishing up with the AIH festival in London August 31st.

Riding Out The Dark - Not For The Long In The (Hounds)Tooth

Seven day working weeks can be sum-bitches. Actually, they are bitches pretty much every time. But you find ways to deal with them. This week, I managed to sneak in a couple of gigs, a graphic novel and lunch with a group of friends - plus this blog, which keeps me sane even as it sends me insane. Sometimes the smallest things truly are the best.

Tonight I am squirreled away in the office, and two new pieces of music are helping whittle away these dead hours. Firstly it was White Hills' new LP So You Are...So You'll Be; the second is Ride Out The Dark, the debut record for Portland's Houndstooth. These two albums are almost yin and yang; whilst So You Are... is all bluster and anachronistic, fried-out noise, Ride Out The Dark is a languid, dusky affair, spiked with the occasional barbed arpeggio that only serves to reaffirm the hazy comfort that Houndstooth dole out in liberal doses. Katie Bernstein's vocals swings from husky whimsy ('Thunder Runner') to more brooding, haunted fare ('Canary Island'), all the while imbuing the sun-bleached Americana with its own understated beauty. Nevertheless, it is the influences both old (Neil Young in particular works into John Gnorski's slightly off-kilter guitar ramblings) and new (I couldn't get the idea that I should be playing My Morning Jacket's seminal 2003 album It Still Moves as a companion piece out of my head the first few spins) that are effectively worn into these ten tracks - smooth sailing from here on out.

You can grab Ride Out The Dark from No Quarter Records.

Houndstooth - Canary Island