{"id":5019,"date":"2017-11-10T20:03:18","date_gmt":"2017-11-11T01:03:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.duplication.ca\/dupeshop\/?post_type=product&#038;p=5019"},"modified":"2019-11-16T13:11:10","modified_gmt":"2019-11-16T18:11:10","slug":"slow-dancers-philadelphus","status":"publish","type":"product","link":"https:\/\/www.duplication.com\/dupeshop\/product\/slow-dancers-philadelphus\/","title":{"rendered":"Slow Dancers &#8211; Philadelphus"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>https:\/\/slowdancers.bandcamp.com\/<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I\u2019ve lost track of how many pieces of music criticism I\u2019ve read bemoaning the decline of the album as a total statement. More rare, if less elusive in name, would be the EP of equivalent sweep, a single-sitting listen wherein any track is as instantly indelible as the whole. Happily, &#8220;Philadelphus&#8221;, the new recording by Slow Dancers, is that fond object. Brief as a memory in concentrate, but with a photographic depth, each of these four songs captures a world. There is a thusness to this music, as the clear and spacious arrangements, the vastness and concision of the lyrics, conspire to something utterly companionable.<\/p>\n<p>There are seasons to these songs, non-exclusive and exacting. In each one may observe a weather-word or floral sign-post, like kigo in Japanese poetry: the seasonal phrase that cinches a verse\u2019s scenery. Songwriter Jesse Hill\u2019s lyric miniatures are every bit as deft as haiku, although they appear tributary of a flexible Anglo-American lyric, too; the short lines and subtle end-rhymes reminiscent of a Larkin or Ciardi, whose formal verses nonetheless hew closely to speech. But these are songs as well as poems, and however well<span class=\"bcTruncateMore\">\u00a0Hill\u2019s lyrics work as page poetry, there is a tension between the purposes of sight and song. Reading alongside these melodies, one experiences a double enjambment\u2014the voice like a breeze across stanzas, filling and exceeding the height and weight of words.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Envious Brother&#8221; is a mostly chordal toe-tapping vignette, all wistful twang with a two-bar crescendo for a chorus. A harmonica moan places this lyric somewhere beside the road, a conduit the singer can&#8217;t but follow with his eyes. Cole Woods\u2019 cascading drum fills counterpose softly descending vocal harmonies: \u201cmy face\/ablaze\u201d\u2014a resonant fragment of a sentence spanning chorus to verse, near-rhyme binding the phrase\u2014\u201cwith the harsh blush of envy,\u201d sings a bashful brother in the weeds, watching himself watching.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Window Light&#8221; is a wintry miniature built on a rising-and-falling melodic figure, stated in unison and elaborated by degrees until a gorgeous sense of space opens between the instruments. The depth of the recording makes salient the matter of this space: the whorl of thumbprint under plectrum, the dance of dust between amplifier tubes, or the hush of the drums between strokes. An aspirant trumpet swells beneath the snaking theme, spring beckoning beneath the snow.<\/p>\n<p>The sublime tableau supporting these songs exceeds the purposes of whatever picturesque, and contradicts the author\u2019s bearing. &#8220;Alien Spring&#8221; follows a wandering figure, \u201canticipating\/an altered self\/to suit the altering earth,\u201d which continuum is emblematized by the sight of a dead bird bloating in the wet. However, any would-be epiphany stalls at the threshold of the perceiver, \u201csoaking and otherwise un-changed\/there amid the alien spring.\u201d It is the element itself that appears alien, not the poet interloper who cannot but voice his surroundings. A singable bassline supports a swaying chorus: like the body held in silhouette by rain, traced by rivulets, a comforting presence returns.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Mock Orange&#8221;, begins in hesitation, Marie-France Hollier\u2019s bass guitar pensively pedalling beneath sustained notes. This is a moving song, of geographical displacement and marked retrospection in its wake. \u201cOur mock orange, divested of its epithets,\/broke into blossom, as our U-Haul met\/the east\u2019s dark\u201d\u2014the EP\u2019s eponymous flower blooms as night closes around the vehicle. \u201cDivested of its epithets,\u201d no longer decorative but utterly unique, the flower is a watchful symbol as its convoy tunnels rain and dark. The vocal delivery is sparing, perhaps a syllable or two per bar, such that the dense internal rhyme of the lyric is diffused. In this sense the song sweetly relays the breach between experience and the present of its recollection; the meaning of a given moment is withheld the senses but elsewhere assured. Moreover, refreshingly, the song is an anti-aubade of sorts: dawn is a different kind of omen where the two are enclosed and going somewhere, together.<\/p>\n<p>Four songs and to each a season; then, like any great collection, these are occasions for occasions, associations that accrue to each upon repeated listening. It is striking, then, that &#8220;Philadelphus&#8221; is bookended by the recollection of another\u2019s travel\u2014\u201cFrom the garden I watch them disappear\u201d\u2014and a story of the author\u2019s own departure. It is expected that these songs should travel, as they will, and well. I\u2019m glad to have them in my head already.<br \/>\n<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":5020,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":[],"product_cat":[9,6],"product_tag":[13],"class_list":{"0":"post-5019","1":"product","2":"type-product","3":"status-publish","4":"has-post-thumbnail","6":"product_cat-recorded-media","7":"product_cat-tapes","8":"product_tag-rock","9":"product_shipping_class-cassette-class-slug","11":"first","12":"instock","13":"taxable","14":"shipping-taxable","15":"purchasable","16":"product-type-simple"},"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.duplication.com\/dupeshop\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/product\/5019","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.duplication.com\/dupeshop\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/product"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.duplication.com\/dupeshop\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/product"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.duplication.com\/dupeshop\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5019"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.duplication.com\/dupeshop\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5020"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.duplication.com\/dupeshop\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5019"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"product_cat","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.duplication.com\/dupeshop\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/product_cat?post=5019"},{"taxonomy":"product_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.duplication.com\/dupeshop\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/product_tag?post=5019"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}