Chattanooga Pulse

Written by Ernie Paik
Wednesday, 05 November 2008 13:53
Windy & Carl
Songs for the Broken Hearted
(Kranky)

Formless, ambient music often can remain in the background and serve its purpose no matter how much or little attention is given to it; forefather Brian Eno even wrote in the liner notes of his album Music for Airports, “[Ambient music] must be as ignorable as it is interesting.” The sounds of Windy & Carl, comprised of guitarist Carl Hultgren and bassist Windy Weber from Dearborn, Michigan, may gently and softly remain in the lower depths of one’s consciousness, but they’re best heard under different conditions. Unlike most ambient music artists, Windy & Carl create songs that are most effective when played very loudly-preferably, loud enough to shake things and completely envelope a person. Of course, rock music also works when played loudly, but in that case, a strong beat or catchy riff is something transferred through a head nod or a toe tap, which the listener carries. With Windy & Carl, it’s the other way around; their percussion-free, amorphous music carries the listener.
Regarding the duo’s latest album Songs for the Broken Hearted, it’s not off base to call their effect-laden sound space-rock, ambient noise, shoegazer, or drone-rock; call it anything but New Age-the controlled roars and fuzz keep it from going into that territory. “Champion” is the oddball track here, eschewing the trademark sonic fog for actual defined notes, although with softened edges, enhanced by Windy providing her typically calm, dreamy vocals on top. The 10-minute long “Rhodes” reveals the twosome at its best, with a thick, hopeful concoction of synthetic, kneaded swirls, and the perfectly titled “Snow Covers Everything” features a repeated, tinkling glockenspiel pattern and may appeal to devotees of the Cocteau Twins album Victorialand. Windy & Carl fans may find a bit of Songs for the Broken Hearted to be more of the same, but for newcomers, it’s as good a starting place as any other, with a hypnotic, mildly abrasive, yet soothing atmosphere that surrounds a listener like an electric blanket on a bed of feathers and straw.

Ida
My Fair, My Dark
(Polyvinyl)

Some high-minded music auteurs may turn up their noses at performing cover songs, but for the New York trio Ida, it’s a joyful and reverent expression of fandom and an act of sharing, as in the folk tradition with which they’re familiar. This is a band that on occasion has covered some of their favorite albums live, in entirety or near-entirety, including Prince’s Dirty Mind and Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk. The new seven-song EP My Fair, My Dark follows their stunning album Lovers Prayers released earlier this year and includes a handful of covers, including the title track written by member Karla Schickele’s late uncle, David, the brother of Peter Schickele (best known as P.D.Q. Bach.) Like the similarly mellow and melancholic artist Mark Kozelek (of Sun Kil Moon and Red House Painters), Ida takes cover songs and transmutes them so that they sound like one of their own creations, exemplified on their contemplative cover of Anne Briggs’s English folk song “The Time Has Come.”
On the group’s take of John Martyn’s “Road to Ruin,” handclaps provide a beat underneath a harmonium and sparse notes from a piano and spacey guitar, played by founding member Dan Littleton; the always-gorgeous vocalist Elizabeth Mitchell sings with a surefooted and good-tempered manner, and the song ends before reaching the folk-jazz-funk jam of the original. Dolly Parton’s “The Pain of Loving You” is performed in a bluegrass style with a moderate tempo, ample harmonizing, mandolin and guitar strums, and viola playing by guest Michael Hurley. The best cover song, though, is the title track, which features lulling harmonium chords and pedal steel flourishes; these befit the enigmatic lyrics, which describe a triple-personality: “My baby comes in threes: empress, orphan and tease…and I never know which to please.” Among the three original tunes on My Fair, My Dark are a well-recorded live version of “Late Blues” and the EP’s most interesting number, “Still Life,” with a mid-song three-part vocal section sung uncharacteristically separated, rather than blended. On My Fair, My Dark, three is a magic number in more ways than one.