Trevor Tchir
Sky Locked Land
To accuse Trevor Tchir of singing like Calexico’s Joey Burns is no insult; he takes the best of Burns’ The Black Light-era quaver and applies that subdued, iconic style to our Alberta situation in a great leap since his last local album. Overall, Tchir sounds (and is!) more mature, moving on from simply detailing his surroundings to actually populating them with people broken in fascinating ways that not all of them necessarily understand or even notice. It’s an album of regret and slow-moving hope, given extra weight by the passing of Tchir’s father.
There are clichés, but they’re mythic clichés, and Tchir’s lyrics dig deep, f’rinstance: “I’ve been saving like a dam, but they drain you where they can.” Wow, remember just a year back, when it was just artists suffering in the boom instead of, like, everyone?
Tchir has moved away from intentionally muddy country into a more exploratory folk style, which means a song like “Beneath the Mountain Ash” needs nothing more than his ruminations emitting from a head bent over a single acoustic guitar. (Just watch out for the drunken waxwings.) Accordion and violin come in at perfect times. White space plays just as important a role. There’s a pretty duet with Volya Baziuk too. And the lament about tearing down Maple Leaf Gardens is one to keep in mind as we watch our city’s insatiable elites’ thick-tongued move to pillage, demonize, and erase the only arena the Oilers ever thrived in. Tchir’s passion for the old Gardens is nostalgic and charming.
Go to the release party on Oct. 10 at Queen Alex Hall for more — you’ll dig it for sure.
****

Haruko
Wild Geese
Germany lathers us with this soft and sensual pop-folk album, sung in the English of animal fantasy writers (or at least Björk). Most of the songs consist simply of the soft-spoken singer stepping herself a little rhythm out on her guitar, but Haruko frequently whips open an extra track to harmonize with herself in a slightly unnerving fashion. It reminds me of Anki, “To Sir With Love,” and even The Cranberries a little, though with none of their orchestration.
Just bloody sad and pretty, if I had to nail it down to a few words.
****1/2

Sufjan Stevens
The BQE
Full disclosure: I’ve never been able to sink my tank treads into Sufjan Stevens. Really dig the idea of making music for all 50 states, but despite some highlights, he’s hit-and-miss and even a little boring (feel free to argue).
Two years ago, Stevens decided to create a symphonic piece based on his impressions of the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway — a project which, again, I can get behind. But here we are again with an album I can’t imagine listening to unless I were (a) watching his film on the subject; or (b) actually cruising along that road. Maybe playing GTA IV? To quickly sum it up, it’s plucky ’50s-style orchestral jazz like you’ll hear on Mad Men, owing more than a little to Disney’s Fantasia. And then more of that. And then more.
I have a feeling hipper critics will find all sorts of things they like about this one, but I’m not going to fake it. Sorry.
***