Noel Sayre

I've been wanting to post something about Noel Sayre, violinst for the Black Swans, ever since hearing about his accidental death at a pool last week. The guy was only 37, and he was immensely talented. I wrote a short story about it for today's Other Paper, but it's more news-oriented and doesn't really seem like a fitting eulogy to post.

So, even though it's been posted elsewhere, I'm just going to post part of Black Swans singer/guitarist Jerry DeCicca's message he sent out last week. Jerry has a way with words and seems to have known Noel the best, so it's probably best to let his sentiments stand on their own:

Noel and I began playing music together on New Years Eve of 1995, opening a show for the Yips and the Bassholes at Bernies Bagels in Columbus, Ohio. We split $100 for that gig, and so began a partnership that quickly became a strong and lasting friendship that the Black Swans based themselves upon.

We were always more Heckle & Jeckle and Penn & Teller than Simon & Garfunkel, as we shared an idea about music as art, posing as entertainment, that we explored over hundreds of gigs and several recordings. Musically, I always stood in Noel's shadow and Noel always felt he was my shadow. We spoke in code, a short-hand, that sometimes alienated others and sometimes amused them. We were kindred spirits in many way and couldn't be more different in others. He was quiet and articulate, rowdy and beyond shy, hyper intelligent and incredibly dense. I think I knew him better than anyone and it is safe to say there was a lot I never saw. It is shocking to think he will no longer be a part of my physical life. We both imagined that we'd be standing on stage together when we were 80, an appropriate age for our favorite tempo.

...Too, I'm happy to say he already recorded his parts for the next Black Swans album and, as always, played with intelligence, humor, and a transcendent pallet of emotions.

Noel taught me a lot about myself. As we played witness to one another, we stuck to our guns, charting each others growth as a person and a musician. We went through a lot together, good and bad, always expressing ourselves in different ways, but never an unkind word was exchanged, always caring and supportive. I can't imagine my life or music without him.

The Black Canary w/ Afternoon Naps, Black Swans - Ravari Room, 4/18

The Black Canary is one of those Columbus bands that seems to be consistently on the cusp of notoriety but still manages to fly under the radar, despite having some pretty great songs. There are reasons for that, though.

For one, the band isn’t exactly prolific. The Black Canary formed in June of 2006 and released a single, creating buzz that landed them a spot on a CMJ sampler CD and a slot at last year’s CMJ Music Marathon. But that’s all the band put out until Friday’s rescheduled release show at the Ravari Room (the original was snowed out in March). The new seven-inch single, “Vampire,” was given away for free at the show and is also available as a free download on the band’s Myspace page (and below, for ease).

So after about two years, there is still no debut album from the Black Canary, though singer David James promised a full-length in September. With that release history, the band shouldn’t have been too surprised at the sparse crowd.

But what made the show worth covering, and what makes the Black Canary worth listening to despite its spartan output, is the band’s fresh take on ’60s psychedelic pop. It’s a style the band has made all its own, setting it apart from most Columbus bands. The songs are filled with shoegazey atmosphere, and James’s understated vocals don’t get in the way of the Moogy mood. Ethereal swells are pinned down by Eric Buford’s heavy but simple drumbeats.

The atmospheric textures were handled Friday night by a Macbook and some live synth parts while a screen provided polka-dotted visuals at the back of the stage. It was also fitting that James was played an Epiphone John Lennon reissue, as the Beatles are an obvious influence on the band.

Unfortunately the set as a whole lacked the fluidity that the Black Canary captures so well on its singles. The vocals were often too low in the mix and too dry for the band’s material. Some songs did work well, such as the B-side cover of Blur’s “Sing,” but instead of keeping that good vibe going, the banter between songs killed it. It felt like amateur hour, with James awkwardly name-dropping other bands and taking way too long to transition to the next tune. The low point was a collaboration with members of opener Afternoon Naps, which the bands admitted was unrehearsed. It showed.

I was also disappointed with the performance of the new single, “Vampire,” which sounded off-key and without as much of a hook as some of the band’s other material.

Not surprisingly given the band’s catalog, it was a short set. It by no means ruined me on the Black Canary--I’m still looking forward to that debut album when it eventually surfaces. But hopefully between now and then the band will play plenty of shows to hone those chops and do its recordings justice.

Warming up the stage was Cleveland’s Afternoon Naps, who performed short, Belle and Sebastian-style twee-pop songs, heavy on the twee. The guy-girl vocals and jangly guitar were nice, as were the xylophone and trumpet additions, but lyrics like “I’m so happy that you are mine, feeling happy all the time” started to drive me crazy. As did the seemingly required insertion of “ba ba ba,” “la la la” or “bum bum bum” into every song. Once the cover of “I Think We’re Alone Now” surfaced, I just about passed out from the saccharine overdose.

I was mesmerized the last time I saw the Black Swans at Andyman’s, but unfortunately the band was missing its violin player for the opening slot Friday night. It made me realize how much that fiddle adds, filling out the band’s weird, hushed folk ballads. With the violin, it’s eerie and spooky; without it, it just felt creepy. “New Medicine” and “Shake” were probably the best of the short set, and Jerry DeCicca’s low, whispered croon still drew me in from time to time. His harmonica sometimes helped fill the void, too. But alas, it just wasn’t the same. Noel Sayre, come back soon.

mp3: The Black Canary - Vampire

Missed in 2007

It's impossible to listen to everything. Here's a few albums that I didn't get around to in 2007 (or at least not until the waning days) but am now heartily enjoying.

I'm Not There Soundtrack
There are 33 Bob Dylan covers in the soundtrack to the Todd Haynes film, and a lot of them are pretty great. The standout track for me is "Goin' to Acapulco" by Jim James (My Morning Jacket) and Calexico, with its laid-back, island vibe some good ol' Calexico horns. You can't go wrong with any of the three Stephen Malkmus tracks, either.
Stream

The Avett Brothers - Emotionalism
I guess you'd call this rock with folk and bluegrass influences, but if that's not your thing, don't let those labels stop you. Seth and Scott Avett have a rock-and-roll swagger that's as irresistible as the songs' hooks, and the writing is superb. If I could hop in a DeLorean and redo my Best of 2007, this would be up high.
mp3: The Avett Brothers - Die Die Die

The Black Swans - Change!
See previous post. I like.

A.A. Bondy - American Hearts
I knew nothing of this album by the former Verbena frontman until a Donewaiting.com Best of 2007 list. Fans of Rocky Votolato or early Josh Ritter will love this album. It's nothing fancy, just good, pared-down, somewhat dark songwriting that avoids some of the cliches common in Americana.
mp3: A.A. Bondy - There's a Reason

Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova - Once Soundtrack
I'd heard a few songs from this soundtrack before seeing the film, but now that I've watched it, the emotions come through in a whole new way. Hansard, Irish singer/guitarist of The Frames, will give you goose bumps when he lets loose on "Say It to Me Now," and "Falling Slowly" is a perfect pop song. (The compatible pair also covers Dylan's "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere" on the I'm Not There soundtrack.)
mp3: Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova - Falling Slowly

A couple that I probably didn't need to get around to:

Rivers Cuomo - Alone: The Home Recordings
A couple of these tunes, such as "I Was Made for You," sound like they could be Weezer classics, but most probably should have stayed in Cuomo's stash of home demos. "Ooh" is just 47 seconds of Rivers layering his voice, and I honestly get a little embarrassed for him during his attempts at Rage-style metal-rap ("The Bomb") and R&B ("This is the Way").

Times New Viking - Paisley Reich
OK, so maybe it'll grow on me, but I don't see what all the fuss is about. I love to see Columbus bands succeed, so I'm happy TNV is releasing its new album on Matador (Rip It Off, 1/22) and has a good amount of buzz going, but I can't say I've truly enjoyed listening to this album all the way through yet. The ultra lo-fi quality does get a bit much, but it's the songs themselves that don't do much for me.
mp3: Times New Viking - (My Head)/R.I.P. Allegory (from Rip It Off)

The Black Swans, Megan Palmer - Andyman's Treehouse, 1/4/08

In the first few weeks of the new year, I get a year-end-list hangover in which, after reading countless “Best of” lists, I realize how many great releases and live shows I missed in the previous year. The Black Swans fall into the category of a live act I somehow never saw, but thankfully I remedied the situation Friday night at Andyman’s Treehouse. I then kicked myself repeatedly for missing all those shows.

On the Black Swans latest release, Change!, the atmosphere this trio creates is other-worldly, and that same vibe was present at such an intimate venue in front of a hushed crowd (aside from the spill-over from the pool room). There’s an eerie coolness to the Black Swans’ songs, like being alone in a desert at night. The band takes cues from folk, country and blues to create a pastiche that is gorgeous, spooky, depressing and bare.

The most surprising part of the band’s sound is singer/guitarist Jerry DeCicca’s voice, which rarely rose above a thick-throated whisper. There’s beauty in his unusual, understated delivery. Adding to the eerie feel was Noel Sayre’s moaning Appalachian fiddle, which was as integral to the songs as the vocals. On the last tune, “3 Chord Song,” Sayre showed his mastery of the instrument. Throughout the set, Canaan Faulkner’s unpretentious bass lines and DeCicca’s simple acoustic guitar lines let the mood and words develop naturally.

It’s a rare thing when a songwriter’s lyrics can stand alone as poetry (see collections by Jim Morrison and Jewel), but most of DeCicca’s lyrics can do just that. (Pick up a copy of Change! and listen to “3 Broken Words” and “New Face” for some good examples.) At one point, though, DeCicca stopped a song after realizing he couldn’t remember the words. But, he said, it didn’t matter because “they all sound the same anyway.” There’s some truth to that. The Black Swans don’t exactly mix things up stylistically. But if you can do one thing that well, why veer?

With national press taking notice, it might not be long before we’re pining for the days when we could see the Black Swans at a place like Andyman’s, and the same could be said for Megan Palmer, who preceded the band. In her last Columbus show before a stint in New York, Palmer was accompanied by two fiddlers and an occasional backing vocalist. Like the Black Swans, Palmer’s songs were perfect for the intimacy of this room. The local favorite gave a passionate, inspired performance.

The delivery that sometimes comes across as dull on her most recent record, Take You Away, transformed into something pensive and intriguing live. It’s apparent Palmer’s becoming a seasoned performer, looking right at home on stage (or in the case of Andyman’s, on the ground in front of some Christmas lights). “Matador” showcased her knack for a clever turn of phrase (“I go so quickly from love to liability”) and the dead-on harmonies allowed the emotionality of the song to erupt. She had more jazziness to her voice, as well, especially on “Hair of the Dog.”

I found myself grinning during the set’s closer, “Desperate Housewives,” as Palmer sang, “Desperate housewives make honky-tonk angels when they finally get away,” and as I looked around the room, I noticed I wasn’t the only one.

More pics from the show here.

mp3: The Black Swans - Change
mp3: Megan Palmer downloads at Sunken Treasure