quinta-feira, 29 de abril de 2010
terça-feira, 20 de abril de 2010
the trouble with flying
I think I haven't heard Orba Squara since A.S. is gone...
I love everything about this "band". I love the sounds the rhythms the feelings...
Val pal took me today this clip:
Val pal took me today this clip:
Let us know a little more about this "band" as written here:
You’ve come here for facts, so facts are what we’ll give you. Orba Squara is the musical alter ego of Mitch Davis, an independent New York-based inger/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist. If Davis’s name doesn’t ring a bell (yet), his artistry most certainly will: “Perfect Timing,” a track from Orba Squara’s 2007 debut, sunshyness, was featured in the first international TV campaign for the iPhone. (See it at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrcsQvZz06g.)
Yet more than anything, what Orba Squara represents is an idea: namely, that in an age of increasing electronic saturation—an age when one might wonder if something actually happened if it wasn’t Twittered about—there’s something refreshing (and reassuring) about music made with human hands.
That’s the sound of Orba Squara’s sophomore set, The Trouble with Flying, a mesmerizing collection of homemade art-pop gems. Highlights include opener “Treasure Map,” in which Davis describes a world populated by leprechauns, minotaurs and unicorns; the Broadway miniature “Millionaires,” where he imagines buying “a dozen diamonds like they were a dime a dozen” (then giving them away just to impress his beloved); and “Brand New Day,” an upbeat charmer in which the narrator makes a promise “that I’ll always be unique.”
As defined by Davis’s idiosyncratic vocals and his off-kilter melodic sense, Flying makes good on that guarantee. Still, fans of the Magnetic Fields’ 69 Love Songs should prepare to open their hearts for 13 more.
“When I started working as Orba Squara, it was a reaction to the fact that you couldn’t really do anything with electronic music to surprise anyone more,” says Davis, who in his support of sunshyness played numerous high-profile gigs including Brooklyn Vegan’s 2007 CMJ showcase, ASCAP’s 2008 Sundance Film Festival party and NPR’s World Cafe. “At this point there’s no sound that’s gonna make somebody say, ‘Whoa, that’s crazy—how’d you get that!?’ So I just thought, Well, lemme go backwards to these instruments that are a hundred years old”— Davis’s arsenal includes acoustic guitar, toy piano, ukulele and xylophone—“and just make music that way. Do something different by purposely not using whatever’s the most modern thing out there.”
Davis made Flying predominately on his own in his New York studio, though he did receive help on two tracks (including the sitar-smeared title track) from an unlikely idol: Billy Squier, whom Davis calls his favorite recording artist of all time. The two met through a mutual friend, then began working together after Squier checked out sunshyness and liked what he heard.
“A week after I gave Billy my album he got in touch and told me if I had anything in the future that was right for him to call him up,” Davis remembers. “So, of course, I was like, ‘Actually…’” (The collaboration continues: Davis is currently at work producing Squier’s next solo release, and in July 2009, Orba Squara’s three-piece live incarnation opened for Squier at Long Island’s Capital One Bank Theatre.) Davis says Flying’s title refers to the fact that trying always comes accompanied by the risk of failure; in the title track he allegorizes that notion with a story about a bird falling from a tree before it’s ready to fly. But there are other ways to look at the phrase, as well. “For example,” Davis says, “the trouble with flying is that you have to wait in line and sometimes your luggage doesn’t make it where you do.”
In early 2009, Davis and a group of friends took a cross-country road trip—Davis’s first—in an attempt to explore yet another dimension of the album’s title: what you miss out on while sitting in an airplane 35,000 feet above the ground. “I got to see a lot of things I’d never seen before,” he enthuses. “People and places and scenery I would never have been exposed to otherwise.” The group documented their trek and put the result online—watch it at orbasquara.com—reflecting Davis’s determination to provide the listener drowning in MP3s with some crucial context for the music he or she is hearing: This is where this music comes from, the site suggests, and this is what it means.
Comparing his new tunes to music he made before his realization about the presence of the past, Davis says he feels more connected to the music on The Trouble with Flying than to anything he’s made before. Don’t think that means his hands are idle now, though. “Oh, I’m always recording,” he says with a matter-of-fact laugh. “I’m already at work on the next one.”
This biography was provided by the artist or their representative.
You’ve come here for facts, so facts are what we’ll give you. Orba Squara is the musical alter ego of Mitch Davis, an independent New York-based inger/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist. If Davis’s name doesn’t ring a bell (yet), his artistry most certainly will: “Perfect Timing,” a track from Orba Squara’s 2007 debut, sunshyness, was featured in the first international TV campaign for the iPhone. (See it at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrcsQvZz06g.)
Yet more than anything, what Orba Squara represents is an idea: namely, that in an age of increasing electronic saturation—an age when one might wonder if something actually happened if it wasn’t Twittered about—there’s something refreshing (and reassuring) about music made with human hands.
That’s the sound of Orba Squara’s sophomore set, The Trouble with Flying, a mesmerizing collection of homemade art-pop gems. Highlights include opener “Treasure Map,” in which Davis describes a world populated by leprechauns, minotaurs and unicorns; the Broadway miniature “Millionaires,” where he imagines buying “a dozen diamonds like they were a dime a dozen” (then giving them away just to impress his beloved); and “Brand New Day,” an upbeat charmer in which the narrator makes a promise “that I’ll always be unique.”
As defined by Davis’s idiosyncratic vocals and his off-kilter melodic sense, Flying makes good on that guarantee. Still, fans of the Magnetic Fields’ 69 Love Songs should prepare to open their hearts for 13 more.
“When I started working as Orba Squara, it was a reaction to the fact that you couldn’t really do anything with electronic music to surprise anyone more,” says Davis, who in his support of sunshyness played numerous high-profile gigs including Brooklyn Vegan’s 2007 CMJ showcase, ASCAP’s 2008 Sundance Film Festival party and NPR’s World Cafe. “At this point there’s no sound that’s gonna make somebody say, ‘Whoa, that’s crazy—how’d you get that!?’ So I just thought, Well, lemme go backwards to these instruments that are a hundred years old”— Davis’s arsenal includes acoustic guitar, toy piano, ukulele and xylophone—“and just make music that way. Do something different by purposely not using whatever’s the most modern thing out there.”
Davis made Flying predominately on his own in his New York studio, though he did receive help on two tracks (including the sitar-smeared title track) from an unlikely idol: Billy Squier, whom Davis calls his favorite recording artist of all time. The two met through a mutual friend, then began working together after Squier checked out sunshyness and liked what he heard.
“A week after I gave Billy my album he got in touch and told me if I had anything in the future that was right for him to call him up,” Davis remembers. “So, of course, I was like, ‘Actually…’” (The collaboration continues: Davis is currently at work producing Squier’s next solo release, and in July 2009, Orba Squara’s three-piece live incarnation opened for Squier at Long Island’s Capital One Bank Theatre.) Davis says Flying’s title refers to the fact that trying always comes accompanied by the risk of failure; in the title track he allegorizes that notion with a story about a bird falling from a tree before it’s ready to fly. But there are other ways to look at the phrase, as well. “For example,” Davis says, “the trouble with flying is that you have to wait in line and sometimes your luggage doesn’t make it where you do.”
In early 2009, Davis and a group of friends took a cross-country road trip—Davis’s first—in an attempt to explore yet another dimension of the album’s title: what you miss out on while sitting in an airplane 35,000 feet above the ground. “I got to see a lot of things I’d never seen before,” he enthuses. “People and places and scenery I would never have been exposed to otherwise.” The group documented their trek and put the result online—watch it at orbasquara.com—reflecting Davis’s determination to provide the listener drowning in MP3s with some crucial context for the music he or she is hearing: This is where this music comes from, the site suggests, and this is what it means.
Comparing his new tunes to music he made before his realization about the presence of the past, Davis says he feels more connected to the music on The Trouble with Flying than to anything he’s made before. Don’t think that means his hands are idle now, though. “Oh, I’m always recording,” he says with a matter-of-fact laugh. “I’m already at work on the next one.”
This biography was provided by the artist or their representative.
sábado, 17 de abril de 2010
terça-feira, 6 de abril de 2010
remembering Jeffrey Lee Pierce
Below there's the album cover and one music from Jeffrey who disappeared fourteen years ago on last March 31.
Since then I've been reminding his music that I played like a cult in early 90's.
Now. Behind the hell there's the music. Just search it.
And the last of this post:
"Take care"
originalmente postado aqui
Subscrever:
Mensagens (Atom)
Mensagens
