Cortney TIdwell Boys. I only discovered her yesterday. It's already love. Have you a broad depth of knowledge about Cortney Tidwell? I don't. I don't know anything about her. Except that this album is amazing. Astonishing. Brilliant. You know the story. FIrst track now, it's a bit of a soul flamed relaxed introduction until she turns fierce about halfway through, and the strings seem to haunt more ominously, the rhodes turns sinister and darkness under cover. Was this really recorded in Nashville? It's passionate and exciting and I'm only one song in. When you read descriptions of her they boggle the mind, mentions of Joy Division (not really apparent except possibly some of the drums resemble those on Transmission or is it She's Lost Control? I am not the world's biggest Joy Division fan though I love them), country (sorta, but I'd compare her to some blue eyed soul singer instead), Goth (nah), downtempo (yeah sure). It's really very smart. Second track now. We've moved from some sort of torch song eulogy to love to "would be fierce" programming, distant icy vocalscapes and a spectral presence driven by momentum and dance floor energy. A candidate for a remix from someone less talented than she is. Surely. I am so easy. I had never had even a passing thought of Cortney Tidwell ever and now here I am obsessed and dreaming of those songs to be discovered over the next few days and those which will move me to heights of rapture. Bliss. And the songs, so short, for electronic songs. And her voice, ah, amazingly she even has occasion to mimic Harriet Wheeler on tracks. Those fans of hyperbole are coming soon. It's breathtaking. Really. Today was the anniversary of the Columbine shootings. I had been here in Colorado but a month when the shootings occurred. I remember the day explicitly. There still does not seem to have been a reckoning for the police who refused to enter the building while the kids were being killed. It's funny but when there is a false alarm at my place of business and the police respond they come in guns blazing and really all they might then expect is some Meth head stealing some computer monitors, why not wait for them to come out, but no Dirty Harry's are on patrol and yet when they had the call to protect and serve they failed. The role of police is mischaracterized as such. Police arrest people after they have already turned criminal. When that lunatic in Canada was cutting the head off a man on the bus the police actually waited all night before taking him into custody even though it was only the psychotic, his knife and his prey that were left on the bus. Anyhow. This could be an elegiac tribute to the goodness of human nature that lies in opposition to such madness. It's the most beautiful record to emerge this year. The Long Lost is rather good as well, by the way. Son and Moon, random squiggles, the sort of bits that make up entire tracks for Boards of Canada. Viionaries, behold. Her voice, softer, more fragile, she's gone from seductress, to dance floor hero to shopworn fairy in three songs. Multi-tracked, one seemingly backwards, a thickening of electronic bedding, gosh this really is gorgeous. Is she a country singer? Her label is home to Lambchop and To Rococco Rot. Gladly, for us, she merely destroys both of those bands. All by her lonesome. It's a delicious amalgam. It seems there exist in secret really intelligent sorts who can sift through their influences and favorites and pull out the threads of things that fit their inspiration and make exasperatingly special moments come to life. See also Luke Sutherland, before he worked with the Rot. It's such a restrained piece of work. Now it's an almost traditional folk number, a duet with someone, I think it is a male but it's a squealie male if he's male, it's beautiful, as always. An acoustic guitar, or two or three. Laptop percussion, as in laps and the tops of them. I've found the second record as well, still looking for the first mini-lp. Is it all this wondrous? I haven't yet decided as I haven't listened but I am pretty certain that she must have been born a phenomenon. Will she be a big star? Will she play a Columbine tribute concert on the 15th anniversary. It's slightly sad that the only notoriety some of these kids will aspire to will be their existence in the aftermath. Surely it was a defining moment in their life but was it only a stop sign. I don't know, I always offer conjecture from a distance, nothing of consequence ever happens to me. I meet Linus Pauling and he commented only on my being polite. That sort of thing. Next track, Oslo, here then the Sundays track. Really. If the Sundays had had soul. I relate the story of meeting David Gavurin in front of a moving bus and thinking of pushing him in front of it and then asking Harriet Wheeler to marry me. But it isn't an interesting story because all of the action that didn't occur didn't occur entirely in my head. I didn't even bring flowers for Harriet, not like the 11 other saddoes did. it was a blizzard, not a Denver in April sort, but still impressively precipitative and yet the hall was filled and filled with an abundance of love. Will Cortney Tidwell draw similar outpourings when she plays St Andrews Hall in some future weather event? I hope so. Bring her flowers, and chocolates and a teddy bear for her Boys. I won't be there. I won't think of pushing her husband in front of the light rail line. I have moved past these things. I think instead of making a time machine to travel back to 2007 Springfield, Ohio to watch the Lillian Gish film festival. I could take one passenger, she's agreed, I simply lack the funds to harness the output of a black hole. Next track So We Sing, somewhat conventional, thumping regular drums, her treated voice, a boring guitar riff, but it's still pretty great based on her performance. My time traveller companion is prone to not much liking singers who emote or "dramatise". It's an acceptable blind spot, I don't much like a lot of things I should by rights love in order to make my life more rich by shared loves and experiences but I have this overwhelming tendency towards contrarianism. This has just turned awesome. It's all awesome. Really. My contrarian nature turned queasy today. In my vocation we have occasion to be called stewards of the earth and as such we were invited to take part in an Earth Day/Gaia Youth "celebration" at an elementary school today. Names withheld to protect the creepy but the religious fervour on display was truly bizarre and frighteningly coercive. I watched as an entire school's worth of brainwashed lumps were singing along to Joni Mitchell and chanting for mother earth. There wasn't any science on display, it was a purely emotional projection and blatant effort at indoctrination. Why do they need to start with kids before they know how to form an intelligent opinion? It's scary to think people will use this sort of trojan horse tactic in the guise of education. I didn't offer up any thoughts to counter the theme of the day. I was not acting in my own capacity as sole proprietor of Ron Powlus Role Model and my conformity streak on my PDP is actually stirkingly high, strangely enough, so I was mute only with mouth agape at the vacuous nature of what passes as education today. Next track has been playing, oh yeah, it's amazing. A slow grower, thumping percussion and multi-layered voices, builds into some sort of cacophony, still no thoughts of Joy Division, perhaps a bit My Bloody Valentine on this one, but only if I close my eyes and lose my mind completely. My Bloody Valentine are playing here next Friday. I am not going. i can't afford it. I saw them before they were overweight and interested in things like fiber content and HDL's. They were alright, but I never connected with My Bloody Valentine the way I did with say Ride or Chapterhouse. Chapterhouse entry coming soon, slobbering sycophantism is all but assured. Chapterhouse require a reevaluation. I appreciate Loveless, I think it is beautiful, but the truth is that even if in attendance I would not know or recognize at least half of the songs from it when they played Loveless live. It is all so dreamy, seamless and anonymous. It's the case of the music outshining the performers. Kevin Shields is known for his fondness for pies and his slack work ethic. He's not really know as a performer is he. Besides they play so very loud, I am too old for tinnitus, I was too old when Mercury Rev made a desperate lunge for credibility at Alvins 1996, His Name is Alive opened. Another song is playing, this is a bit of the programmed thing going on, it seems simple enough but it's smartly structured and I think the song lengths are to the advantage and her personality on parade is also what wins me over and then the synth washes or digital strings come in and it's heart crushingly ache filled. I keep getting added to spam mail lists for silly Indie rock labels. Please stop. I am also sent more requests to review records. These aren't really reviews are they? I don't make any objective pronouncements on any record's worth, it is all an emotional investment on my part. I love nearly everything I write about or why else would I feel compelled but it is disappointment that drives me to write about things I hold less dear and disappointment is inextricably liked with anticipation. I have come to the understanding that anything that I desire for greatness will fail to measure up. Better to take a flyer on unknown stars in the sky like Cortney Tidwell and then discover the richness lying in this untapped vein right beneath my fingertips. As I type I am connected to an entire hidden world filled with more treasures such as this, oh the power, my pan is somewhat defective but still workable. Really, when will the cult of Apple go away with the Cult of Gaia. Is it an indoctrination issue there as well, Apple rules the schools, but their hardware is a joke. Really. Admit it! Or don't. Man that song was beautiful, vibes, children samples, magnificent. Now something darker, a jolt, her voice shriller, more desperate, she's gone from Liz Fraser to something with a tender slice of ferocity. It's charming, almost heart beat turned still, a repeating percussive loop and her voice soaring above. This is the single. I think. It won't erupt from the speakers. Not without a good set of speakers but it stirs because of the intensity of performance. It's slightly Pj Harvey-esque. Fiery. People in Nashville think of her? My brother lives in Nashville, right down the street from Trace Adkins actually. Is Trace going on the Nashville Network with Roy Clark and repping for Cortney Tidwell? Is she playing the main strip in Nashville? This song would set the blood curdling there. When I was in Nashville there was a beautiful bartender named LeeAnn who represented herself as an aspiring singer-songwriter and I wonder if she has seen Cortney Tidwell and since decided that she could never measure up to such monumental awesomeness? Possibly. Intimidation is real. I feel tiny in its shadow. Last song. An epic track, N acoustic guitar, MELODY thickening, a rush of end of the affair charged romanticism. I haven't spoken of the lyrics much. I read the Pitchfork review of the Camera Obscura today, written by the person who seems to write all of the Camera Obscura reviews for Pitchfork and it covered the lyrics almost exclusively. It seems brazen to make assertions on the state of mind of a songwriter based on words on the page. Do songwriters sing these words to convey something to the listener? To another object? Or just to the advancement of their art? It must be a combination of the three. Surely you are driven by emotions and strife turns them sharper but misinterpretation is part of the allure of universality that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy by accidental evolution rather than design. This is just remarkable. The last song, the best song on the album, her voice wounded and ethereal and strong and defiant and the final track as epic struggle is painted with a flourish.