SOUNDTRACK: MEN I TRUST-Tiny Desk (Home) Concert #224 (June 16, 2021).
I hadn’t heard of Men I Trust, one of the more interesting new band names out there, but I really like their sound. It’s a kind of gentle synth pop that seems to flow so effortlessly from French-speaking singers (even when they sing in English).
Men I Trust was initially the duo of high school friends Dragos Chiriac (keyboards) and Jessy Caron (guitars), before adding vocalist Emma Proulx in 2015 and recording the group’s debut album, Headroom. (They expanded to a quintet for this performance, with Cedric Martel handling bass and Eric Maillet on drums.)
The band straddle the line between interesting indie rock and 70s soft rock. In fact even the setting straddles that line.
From a rustic and retro-looking cabin on the north shore of the St. Lawrence River in Quebec, the band Men I Trust seized the essence of the Tiny Desk almost to a tee. The controlled, yet layered four-song set, bookended by tracks from 2019’s Oncle Jazz would almost certainly make for a plug-and-play situation had it been behind Bob Boilen’s desk.
“Show Me How” leans away from the soft rock with a pretty guitar intro and some nice bass work. Proulx’s voice has that softness that lures you in. The shift to the chorus is a really nice chord change too.
The band’s style sways between rubbery upbeat electro-pop and the muddy pace evident on last year’s “Lucky Sue,” but generally hits that sweet spot for anybody looking to be cradled and carried by a vibe-y groove
“Lucky Sue” opens with a wah-wah guitar intro that sounds like synth. Caron also makes some really cool chords on his guitar–he gets some really interesting sounds from it.
The song “Humming Man,” was its first official single as a trio and they never looked back from there.
“Humming Man” opens with thumping drums and a soft synth chord progression. Again Caron play a wah wah filled riff but also gets some really interesting guitar sounds–almost like a reverse wall of chords that he stretches out to a lengthy solo for the end of the song.
I’m fascinated to read that
The overdubs and reverb on Emma’s vocals are stripped away here, leaving a deceptively endearing quality to her voice.
Her voice here isn’t full of reverb, but I can’t imagine doing much processing to her delicate voice. “All Night” sounds very nice–whispery and inviting even if this song veers a little too far into soft rock territory. Caron’s solo takes up more than half of this song, and I found myself missing Proulx’s voice by the end.
[READ: July 1, 2021] “Private Hands”
This month’s issue of The Walrus is the Summer Reading issue and features three pieces of fiction and three poems.
The fifth piece is a short story about provenance and ownership.
The narrator works as a (poorly) paid assistant to Harvey, a wealthy collector. Harvey had made his money in pesticides and was worth about $200 million. Harvey bought things with the intent of upselling them. Disney merch always sold well. But Harvey had a few things that were hard to sell, like Jimi Hendrix’ 1963 Fender Strat.
Paul was a buyer. Harvey tried to sell him the Hendrix for $500,000 but he wasn’t biting. Normally Harvey would haggle, but he had overpaid for this, and wouldn’t budge.
Harvey had a few other interesting items (a test pressing of Led Zeppelin III), but Paul really wanted guitars.
The narrator mentioned the Jasper, but it seemed Harvey didn’t want to sell it. But Paul was intrigued. It was an acoustic guitar played by Abel Jasper (a fictitious folk singer).
Paul’s eye lit up. He said his dad grew up in the depression and loved Jasper’s work.
Harvey said Jasper played this guitar from ’33 to ’40 and he could let it go for $100,000. This was a huge profit for Harvey, but Paul looked smitten.
The problem came with the provenance. Harvey didn’t formally have it, but he did have a letter testifying to its authenticity from the Museum of the Dandelion. Paul told him if he could offer proper authentication, he would buy it.
The rest of the story is the narrator’s attempts to track down provenance. First to New York, to the Dandelion museum, where the owner admitted he was very sad to sell that guitar which was “the soul of the museum.” He had documentation of purchase from a woman in Texas.
But that woman was given the guitar by Christian Royce, a folk singer who now lived in Montreal. The narrator flew to Montreal and listened to a lot of Royce’s music before talking to him. Eventually Christian said it was his father who had been given the guitar.
When he finally gets to Texas, he has now heard so many life stories and so many stories about this guitar, that he feels he knows this guitar intimately. He is devastated when this woman doesn’t want to share the “proof” she has about its origin. How can he convince her?
Leave a Reply