Nina
EMMA
Filed under: Nina, Uncategorized | Tags: belle & sebastian, bjork, dark dark dark, grizzly bear, oh land, perks of being a wallflower, seabear, sufjan stevens, winter
It's easier if you have a bear friend. (Photo by Rebekka Guðleifsdóttir)
New England winters always do a number on me. It settles in with the first chills of November and I’ll spare the sordid details, so let’s talk about tastes. Cravings spark for hot cinnamon caramelized everything, mulled wine, spiked cider, thick soup, and as with most other things on this blog, it translates to a matter of music. This is growing affection for thin ephemeral sounds that crackle like snow-caked power wires, whisper like clouds of breath forming in thin air, ebb slow like honey on its way to hot coffee, like blood in need of a good thaw. In the past, these icy months have spurred all sorts of unpredictable symptoms, including a short-lived Joanna Newsom obsession and many nights lying immobile under the power of In Rainbows. For better or for worse, it’s been interesting.
The winter mixtape has been a treasured tradition of mine, ever since stumbling upon and being thoroughly moved by the “One Winter” mixtape from The Perks of Being a Wallflower. (Though the book should be kept undisturbed in a time capsule with other 14 year old gems such as the irrational emotional breakdown and the oversize Nirvana hoodie, “One Winter” has stood the test of time.) When it’s not raining outside still shows the last of precious autumn – daytime is still ripe with picturesque collegiate dream scenes, scarves and falling leaves. But daytime ends at five now, Christmas lights are on sale and you’ve broken down and turned on the furnace at least once already. It’s all in the name of being prepared, right? So while you’re saran wrapping your windows and furnishing your hibernaculum, I’ll throw some tunes your way.
Oh Land – White Nights (see also: “Wolf & I”)
This Danish ex-ballerina makes twitchy shimmery music that sounds like delightfully delirious insomnia, glitchy music boxes, dream pop with a dance beat. She wants to make music “that sounds like it’s from 2050 but still feels really classic.”
Seabear – Libraries (see also: “I Sing I Swim”)
So this one time I lived in the library and never came out except for PB&Js and the occasional fire alarm. By “this one time” I mean November and December. Thanks, college. This lovely soft Icelandic murmuring sounds like the blessed moment when you fold your notebooks up, rub your eyes, and make your way back home. “Next time I wake up / I want it to be / in a rabbit hole / to the sound of you making coffee.”
Belle & Sebastian – Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John (see also: “Boy With the Arab Strap,” “Calculating Bimbo,” everything)
Norah Jones makes an unexpected appearance on this lovely track off Belle & Sebastian’s latest, Write About Love, and the duet is simultaneously peaceful and heartbreaking. Sounds like lit candles, lonely soup, watching flurries settle down under streetlights, missing summer and the loves that come with it. “Travel south until your skin turns, woman / Travel south until your skin turns brown / Put a language in your head and get on a train / and then come back to the one you love.”
Bjork – Hidden Place (see also: “Coccoon,” “It’s Not Up to You”, all of Vespertine)
People make fun of Bjork an awful lot, and those people are wrong. She might sometimes seem like she’s not quite made for this world, but in music that’s a good thing. Her influence can be felt in St. Vincent to the Dirty Projectors, not to mention a ton of electronic and ambient music. Vespertine is unpredictable – icy and alien, sparking with desire, harboring hidden textures and intimate shimmers. It’s so wintry that cracking ice and snow being walked on are actually used in some songs. According to Bjork, “It sounds like a winter record. If you wake up in the middle of the night and you go out in the garden, everything’s going out there that you wouldn’t know about…I was collecting together all the noises that I know that are like hibernating and that sound like the inside of your head.” Let it grow on you.
Dark, Dark, Dark – Daydreaming (see also: “Celebrate,” “Wild Go”)
Nona Marie Invie’s voice is haunting. I’ve had the good fortune to see Dark Dark Dark in intimate spaces and each time I’ve been moved by its honest emotion, fragile clarity, transcendent way of reaching deep into your soul, sounding like it came from somewhere so deep in the world it’s still prone to magic. Dark Dark Dark is from Minneapolis, but they’re really from the road, and their music has a timeless troubadorial quality. Lonely winds, epic journeys, and wild horizons are as present in their harmonies as the banjo, the accordion, and the viola. These songs tell tales of a world that’s often alienating and apocalyptic, but they come to you with warmth.
Sufjan Stevens – Vesuvius (see also: “Too Much,” “Impossible Soul”)
Age of Adz is so so so good. It takes the melodic appeal of Illinoise and Say Yes! to Michigan and combines it with the electronic experimentation of Enjoy Your Rabbit to make something epic. I’ll save the gushing for another post, but here’s a song that builds slowly into a chant, a prayer, a reason to get out of bed when it’s freezing and inexplicable things are clawing inside you. The glitching screeching mechanistic choral climax dissolves to a simple question – “why does it have to be so hard?” Why indeed.
Grizzly Bear – Foreground (“Colorado” is also something I’ve woken up during)
Today I fell asleep facedown in a pile of clothes and notebooks halfway through a Czech documentary narrated by a man with a startling gap in his front teeth. It was only 7 but it had already been dark for over two hours, I had been some degree of awake for about two days and the world was dark and wet and stressful. When I woke up, this song was playing, pretty and reassuring. I have to admit I haven’t made it all the way through Veckatimest since the first time I heard it because Grizzly Bear is a band I’ve trained myself to fall asleep to on long bus rides and I’m always out cold by the third song. Anyway, this. Warm, cozy, redemptive. Because sometimes you just have to sleep the day away. It’s okay, bears do it all the time.
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