The Jayhawks: "Lies Damn Lies" (American)
Dial a track code: 1641
Having thought we had lost them to the great god of musical differences, the wonderful Jayhawks return minus front man and key songwriter Mark Olson. Last time out Tomorrow The Green Grass came as close to country rock perfection as any Minneapolis band had a right to expect. Wisely, the remaining members have decided to stretch out in a different rockier direction, but not so different that you won't recognise the warm harmonies, the rich melodies and the fine playing. Retro rock it might be, but Americana music will not be better served than by Gary Louris's heart surgery songs, not least on the stunning opener, The Man Who Loved Life or the country Beatleish Trouble. The album dips in places, but these guys (and gal) are still serious contenders who warrant reserving a date for Midnight at the Olympia in Dublin on June 7th when they return to Dublin.
Tarnation: "Mirador" (4AD)
Dial a track code: 1751
Tarnation are tailor made for people who like their roots music a little on the art house side; kind of like Marty Robbins meets David Lynch. Paula Frazer's voice has a very 1960s sense about it, distant, gently disturbed but absolutely essential to the music.
Without it, Mirador would be a relatively innocuous record. Her voice makes it something intriguing. She drifts off into lofty echo filled space while the minimalist band keep up the cantina rhythms conjuring up images of deserts and Joshua trees, of dark strangers and desperate deeds, of lives lived and lost. Irish interest is provided by Dubliner (Yima) Joe Byrnes, who apparently provides the romantic interest as well as laying down some moody drums patterns. Catch them in Whelan's on June 6th.
"Daigan", various singers, (Fflach, CD183H)
Dial-a-track code: 1861
Almost as a metaphor for the modern trampling of their art, these a cappella singers' theme is the Atlantic coasts of peripheral Europe the sea, being separated, leaving the loved places and people.
Lillis O Laoire's nasal Donegal bass reaches down nostalgically to the profoundly sad reflection of An tOdean Ur, Breton Annie Ebrel has four pieces with a lashing edge bevelled by moody calm, Welsh Julie Murphy's crisp beauty has a surprisingly Gaelic blas. Isle of Lewis Scot Mairi Smith ranges from light lullaby to a rich, creamy solidity in Mo Dhurachd Don Tir and Hi Horo Tha Mi Duiltigh.
Duets too affirm this collection of intense, uncluttered beauty metered by the rise and fall of common waves, a pure musicality without metaphor, without synthesiser, making the voice a surprising instrument.
