I Just Read About That…

SOUNDTRACK: MARTIN TIELLI-“We didn’t even suspect that he was the poppy salesman.” (2001).

Martin Tielli’s first solo disc is a proper solo release: it’s almost all him on acoustic guitar and his gorgeous alto voice.  I hadn’t listened to this disc in a while and I was delighted by how much of the disc I knew so well.

Te opening track, “I’ll Never Tear Your Apart” is deceptively simple: harmonic’d guitars and his gentle voice.  There’s a great video to go with it here.  That is followed by the wonderful “My Sweet Relief” which sounds like a great Neil Young folk song: great verses an a strong chorus.  Lyrically, though, it is all Tielli.  “Double X” highlights Tielli’s beautiful acoustic guitar work (and his dark lyrics).  “Voices in the Wilderness” is another delicate song (which opens with a sound that reminds me of Led Zeppelin’s “The Rain Song,” although in no way is the rest of the song like that. This song also (mis)quotes Rush very nicely: “‘If you choose not to be free you still have made a choice,’ said a high and squeaky voice.”

“Farmer in the City” is the only track that Tielli didn’t write.  It’s a nearly 8-minute song by Scott Walker.  I don’t know the original, but Tielli’s version is a bit too meandering to be really satisfying (although it fits in with the album style quite nicely).  It comes across as an atmospheric song more than a song proper.

It’s followed by the delightful “World in a Wall” which uses mice in the wall as a metaphor for a broken relationship (with wonderful detailed lines like: She’s like a mouse, I know she’s around It’s a gnawing sound. Leaves little brown poohs from a little pink bum.”

This is followed by the odd rocker “That’s How They Do It in Warsaw” (which features a woman speaking Polish–no idea what she’s saying).  It’s coupled with a slightly less rocky but still loud track “How Can You Sleep?” (which makes another fun musical allusion, this time about Guided by Voices).

“She Said ‘We’re On Our Way Down'” returns to the more ethereal sounding songs (although this has some great guitar tricks thrown in).  Like the bulk of the album, the song seems to eschew melody but then a gorgeous guitar or vocal line shines through and really sounds brilliant.  “From the Reel” is a beautiful, aching little ditty.  And the disc ends with the odd, seven minute “Wetbrain/Your War.”

There is a really wonderful review of post-Rheostatics work here at The Ohs.  He’s pretty harsh on the Bidiniband (although I haven’t heard the disc proper, just the live concerts that toured it, so I can’t say for sure) but his assessment of Tim Vesely is spot on (I love the idea of a Canadian Wilburys) as is his review of this disc.  I particularly like the Mary Margaret O’Hara comparison: Achingly beautiful but in need of an editor from time to time.

[READ: November 1, 2010] “The man who saw grey”

One thing I have really come to appreciate about Connell’s stories over the years is that he is not afraid to deal with dark aspects of humanity that many people would rather not think about.

The thing that surprised me about this story is that, in the past, Connell has used very specific language, one might even say two-dollar words (some of which I had to look up), to convey his ideas.  But in this story, he largely refrains from such language, keeping the language down to earth and familiar, much like his protagonists.

So this is a fairly simple story: a man hits his head and can thereafter only see in shades of grey.  What makes the story much more interesting than that simple plot is that the protagonist is a painter (well, his hobby is painting, in reality he is an administrator at the DMV).The thing that made me like this story immediately was this observation from the narrator: “He considered it to be a good painting, and it very nearly was.”  With that simple sentence, I fell in love with the “neutral” narrator.

What’s also interesting about the story is that neither character (the painter or his girlfriend) are particularly likable.  He fancies himself an artiste when he is not, and she is remarkably insensitive to his crisis.   What works nicely is that her insensitive blow off of his problem: “you’re not even blind” sets in motion a visit to a doctor and all future actions of the story.

The ending is disturbing, but very likely a reasonable decision for such an angry person.  It ends the story very tidily.

I look forward to reading the rest of this anthology over the next few months (but I wanted to read Connell’s as soon as I received the book).  I was also pleasantly surprised to see that Connell had fiction published in Adbusters, a magazine that I used to love but which I haven’t seen in many years.