(Vinyl Love is a series of posts that quite simply lists, describes, and displays the pieces in my growing vinyl collection. You can bet that each record was given a spin during the drafting of each corresponding post.)
Artist: Amos the Transparent Album Title: Goodnight my dear… I’m falling apart Year released: 2012 Details: Gatefold sleeve, white vinyl
The skinny: I’m already a couple days and a handful of great live performances into this year’s edition of Ottawa Bluesfest – the local music festival that blasts through pretty much every genre of music over the course of a week and half. I’ve been attending this thing on the regular for just over a decade now and one of the great things about it that hasn’t changed much is the organizers’ promotion of local talent. One such band that I discovered at one of the first few times I attended is Amos the Transparent, an indie rock collective led by Jonathan Chandler. I’ve since seen the group a number of times* and bought all of their albums, my favourite of which was their sophomore LP, 2012’s “Goodnight my dear… I’m falling apart.” For those of you too far afield to have heard this album, it is an excellent, big, Canadian indie rock record in the vein of “Funeral” or “Set yourself on fire”, but in addition to the orchestral elements those two albums sport, Amos throws in some traditional folk instrumentation for fun. I picked this original pressing in white vinyl up from the band’s merch table the last time I saw them perform live, back in 2018 at the Ottawa Dragonboat festival, and it’s one I slip on to the turntable with regularity.
Standout track: “Sure as the weather”
*And I will see them one more time this coming Thursday at Bluesfest.
A hearty welcome this morning as we delve ever deeper towards my favourite album of 2010, with this my number four album, “Clinging to a scheme” by The Radio Dept. To those religious sorts out there, pardon the blasphemy of this statement but… Holy god! This album blew my mind on first listen (which really should tell you lots about albums three through one on this list).
At the time, I had not heard one iota about The Radio Dept. and now thirteen years later, I couldn’t even tell you how they ever crossed my radar. I do remember, however, that after realizing that “Clinging to a scheme” was the Swedish indie rock band’s third album, I immediately dove into their back catalogue to see from whence this glorious sound developed. There were only these two other full-length albums to speak of, their releases spread liberally from 2003 to 2010, as if they only really recorded when the mood took them. A foreign concept, for sure, but one that seems to work for them, since 2003’s “Lesser matters” and 2006’s “Pet grief” are both really solid records.
The idea of the band and its name had roots in music made by friends Elin Almered and Johan Duncanson in Lund, Sweden, way back in 1995. This partnership was short-lived, however, and when Duncanson continued making music with others three years later, he did so using the same moniker. Nowadays, the lineup seems focused around the core of Duncanson, Martin Larsson, and Daniel Tjäder. And I say ‘nowadays’ but really, they’ve continued the trend of sporadic releases: a 2011 compilation album called “Passive aggressive”, a full-length in 2016 titled “Running out of love” and a handful of EPs and singles peppered in between.
But let’s get back to “Clinging to a scheme”, shall we?
As I already mentioned above, this particular music fan’s mind was blown on the first listen to said album. All of its elements – the droning, reverb-laden guitar work, the slacker vocals, the Madchester rhythms, the seemingly random samples – all called to mind the music I listened to in the early 90s but were updated enough in all to sound fresh. In its ten tracks, I heard a bit of Ride, some Chapterhouse (very early Chapterhouse), and yes, The Stone Roses. So of course, I would find the music appealing. But there’s something more here. Perhaps it’s an innocence or maybe just an apathy towards everything outside the musicians’ collective spheres. When listening to it, especially on earphones, the music becomes like a force field against all the evils of the outside world. It is beautifully dreamy, like a massage for the soul or a metaphysical drug on par with soma.
Speaking of drugs, have you had a look at the album’s cover? What exactly is that young fella doing? I don’t know if the band condones drug use or if this is a statement of some sort or perhaps I’m reading it all wrong and it’s simply tobacco. Either way, I could see the psychedelic nature of the music lending itself to further enjoyment with the use of recreational drugs… if you were into the type if thing. And if not, do like I do: turn it up loud, close your eyes, let the rhythm rip through you, and just float lazily on its airy melodies.
To start you on your journey, here’s my three picks for you, just a sample of the 10 great tracks from the album:
“Never follow suit”: Like most of the songs on “Clinging to a scheme”, the beat is danceable but on track four, it’s also slow and meandering. There’s a hint of reggae or dub in its aesthetic, digitized spasms mimicking steel drum explosions, and the keyboard riffs add to this feeling of aimless wandering, like it’s the journey and not the destination, and never caring if you get lost. In the middle of the track, we get an interlude, a sampling from a mid-80s documentary, an esoteric easter egg that I might never have hunted down if it didn’t tickle my brain so.
“Heaven’s on fire”: This one starts with a sample of a Thurston Moore ramble on youth culture and big business, making you think it might get social or political (or socio-political), and then, that beat kicks in and pretty much all of that is forgotten… You could read into the lyrics that Johan Duncanson is expressing his distaste for big music and couching it in a sweet sounding indie pop song that courts mainstream in an offhand way. “We’re outnumbered by those who take no pride in constantly moving against the tide.” But it could just as easily be about a strong dislike for some other person and a kiss off on the way to the dance floor. Either way, I makes me happy whenever I listen to it.
“This time around”: And just listen to this track! Do I really need to explain why it is so great? When I counted down my favourite tunes of 2010, it came in at number four, not a bad result at all for a song that it wasn’t even released as a single. In that post, I waxed poetically about The Charlatans because it felt to me that “This time around” sounded pulled out of the same gene pool as the rest of the great tracks on “Some friendly”. But it’s also Chapterhouse exuberance set against a drum beat that might make Reni of The Stone Roses blush. Whenever I listen to it, I feel like I want to explode into a frantic dance à la Keith Flint or Bez. But enough of the name drops. Let’s go let go!
Stay tuned for album #3. In the meantime, here are the previous albums in this list:
Stars are a five-piece Canadian indie rock band that originally formed as the duo of Torquil Campbell and Christopher Seligman back in 2000. After their debut album, “Nightsongs”, was released in 2001, they began adding members. By the time “Heart” was released two years later, the band was up to their current roster size, after adding Evan Cranley, Amy Millan, and Patrick McGee, and the lineup has remained pretty much unchanged ever since. What I find interesting is that most, if not all of the band’s members grew up in Toronto, but the band has never been based there, finding its roots in New York City originally and then, later, relocating to Montreal.
I got into Stars around the same time as pretty much everyone else: shortly after “Set yourself on fire” was let loose on the public in 2004. This was fortuitously right in the middle of the Canadian indie rock renaissance, when all of a sudden, the world realized that music was being made in that gigantic country north of the United States. “Set yourself on fire” is widely considered Stars’ best album and admittedly, it is still my favourite out of all their albums. This is mostly because I know it so well, having listened to it incessantly when I first got a copy of it. Nevertheless, I love all of the albums Stars have since released (including this one, obviously), and if not loved, was able to appreciate the music on their first two when I went back to discover them. And I fully expect that any new album that they come out with next will be great as well, which is why I’ve rarely hesitated in pre-ordering each new album for my vinyl collection without so much as test driving one song. I can do something so rash with an ease of mind because they’ve established a consistency with each album, a sound that is recognizably their own and for us fans, is as comfortable as sitting in our jammies at the kitchen table with a warm cup of coffee and often, makes us want to interrupt our convalescence to get up and dance.
I remember succumbing to the elegance and beauty of Stars’ fifth album, “The five ghosts”, right away, much like I did for “Set yourself on fire”, but unlike its predecessor “In our bedroom after the war”, which started a bit tart but aged like a fine wine. They were on the vanguard of the resurgent trend of duelling male/female lead vocals, a quality that led me to make comparisons to The Beautiful South in the early days of my relationship with the band. On “The five ghosts”, Torquil Campbell and Amy Millan share the duties almost fifty-fifty and on those songs that they spar, the battle of the sexes is played out like the work of art that it is. Campbell doesn’t hide away his love for Morrissey and The Smiths and also channels Paul Heaton and well, Millan’s soft but smart delivery often makes you feel like she could break you in half without you even knowing she’s doing it.
The song titles and lyrics on “The five ghosts” are dark, evoking the macabre with words like death, bones, and haunting, but the album is very much alive. It’s a game Stars play well, much like The Beautiful South (okay, maybe I’m belabouring the comparison now), this juxtaposing of somber themes with seemingly fluffy and cuddly pop music. Not that you should surmise their music is simple, throwaway schlock. Stars are a complete unit, a stylistic package. The music is as intricately designed as one could wish, each layer a delight to pull away and examine in your hands, like the wisps of a cobweb dripping with dew. So yes, let the sun break through fog and delight in it.
If you’re not already listening to Stars, put them on now, preferably “The five ghosts”. If it’s not in your musical arsenal, have a crack at my three picks for you, just a few of the great pieces off the album:
“Changes”: Track seven is peppy and retro, it harkens back to the golden days of the movie musical. I’m thinking ‘Singing in the rain’ here. A synthesizer programmed drum machine sets the tone, abracadabra, confetti, and a sweet bass line starts the microwave to melt your soul like butter and Amy Millan’s lilting turn on vocals, invoking that of Kirsty MacColl, does the rest just fine. “Changes, I’ve never been good with change. I hate it when it all stays the same.” And before you all start crying nudity foul at the NSFW video, it’s an artsy-fartsy thing, playing on some sort of metamorphosis theme, good versus evil, light versus dark, ballet in the buff, and it was shot in the beautiful Winter Garden theatre in Toronto, which makes it all okay.
“Dead hearts”: The opening track on the album features the trademark Campbell and Millan call and response vocal work. It might almost be considered a tad precious with the chiming arpeggios, the graceful strings, and pitch perfect harmonizing if it weren’t for the fact that you knew by the title that they were singing about not just broken but, dead hearts. It was number seven on my Best tunes of 2010 list and in that particular post I also talked about the “gentle jingling guitars, the lonely tinkling piano, the string explosion, and [the] push/pull harmonies [that] all call to mind a fantastical world of a creative child’s imagination.” Haunting and wonderful and joyful in its misery and in its hope. “It’s hard to know they’re out there. It’s hard to know that you still care.”
“Fixed”: “You, you hold my heart. You, you won’t let up. After when I’m caught, touch turns into fisticuffs.” Much like the previous song, this one appeared on my Best tunes of 2010 list, this time at number twenty. It’s one of a good handful of dance floor fillers on the album. Millan takes the lead for this one, sounding almost hopeful and glorious, set against 80s synths and Madchester drums. As I’ve said before, “The drumming is peppy and the synths keep pace, urging any and all listeners to get up and dance, no matter where they are, the bus, a crowded sidewalk, or with a broom in the kitchen, and forget everything but the beat.” This is what makes Stars so great. They can challenge you to think at the same time is they are encouraging a great time. But let’s not lose the plot here. Finish that drink and let’s get out the on the floor.
Stay tuned for album #4. In the meantime, here are the previous albums in this list:
My (life in) music lists 