news
December 2019
NEW RELEASE:
FRAGMENT SERIES 2: CIRCLE BROS/KARINA ESP
ULTRA LIMITED SPLIT 7"
|
We end the year with a new split 7" of old drone-songs, all written during past winters featuring long-time collaborators CIRCLE BROS and KARINA ESP. A previously unreleased Circle Bros classic, Frozen Lakes from 2004, is a gorgeous reverie of revolving delayed guitar and buried vocals, while Peaks from 2016 is a more experimental piece featuring percussion, glockenspiel, synth and vocals. On the other side is the Karina ESP song Time Is Suspended, written in the winter of 2013 and is made up of mournful guitar, hushed voice, singing bowls, cymbal and field recordings. Limited to 40 copies on clear vinyl, each 7" has been cut and pressed by hand in New Zealand by Peter King, and housed in individually-painted kraft card covers with paper sleeves. Comes with an insert and download code. A record about time passing and time suspended. |
Some notes from the artists:
Wim Lecluyse - "Frozen Lakes was written and recorded somewhere late 2004. At the time I was living in Hilversum and working in Amsterdam, and the track is pretty much about commuting between a big city and living in a small town. It's one of those tracks that is - to me - pretty obviously inspired by the great Kant 7" Non Plus Ultra (which, in its turn, is pretty much a 'I wanna be your dog' rip-off, but in an incredible way). Anyway, I played this song live relatively often, even in recent years.
Peaks on the other hand, is a recent track, from somewhere around 2016, when I was preparing for a couple of shows around the time of the release of the album Rust (on three:four records ). It's a very 'flexible' song: I can perform it on pretty much any instrument, for any amount of time. Here I made a one minute version mostly on organ and glockenspiel. In my most recent shows, it turned into a piece of approx 8 minutes, mostly on wind organ and melodica."
Chris Gowers - "The Karina ESP side is one song, Time Is Suspended, recorded around the time that the A Still From The Film LP was released on Wim’s label Morc Records in 2014. It concerns a time when my girlfriend’s illness had been diagnosed as terminal, and the moments we had left together felt ‘suspended’ in time."
September 2019
NEW MADDER ROSE ALBUM AVAILABLE AT THE TROME STORE
Both the LP and CD versions have now sold out. We're hopeful that the LP will get a re-press next year, and the download remains available.
|
Twenty years after their last record, Madder Rose return with a wonderful new album, ‘To Be Beautiful’.
Subtitled ‘Pretty Songs About Death, With Noise’, this collection of nine new songs muses on the death of loved ones, of relationships, and of youth. The languid exuberance of early works has matured here, with the familiar guitar/bass/drums set-up expanded to include accordion, violin, acoustic guitar and synths. Lyrically stoical in the face of it's dark subject matter, and with melodies that greet sadness with warmth, 'To Be Beatuiful' radiates an atmospheric ambience articulating the band’s reflective vantage point. An excellent return from a much-missed group of artists.
'8/10 - Long-promised reunion recalls languorous early charms' - UNCUT
'With their first album in twenty years, Madder Rose return with an exquisitely-crafted collection of atmospheric art-pop…. from a fully-rebloomed Madder Rose, a remotely-assembled but remarkably-cohesive reunion LP... Spaciously-produced but packed full of inventive intricacies that reveal themselves on repeated spins’ – Concrete Islands
‘This fifth album…happily recalls the mellowest portions of 1994’s Panic On. To Be Beautiful’s hushed restraint is interrupted by shards of cavernous guitars’ – Long Live Vinyl
'Madder Rose always seemed to be a band who played by their own rules, and it seems that little has changed in that respect in the last 20 years. To Be Beautiful is an album to get lost in, and it feels like the warmest of hugs from an old friend.' - The 405
Subtitled ‘Pretty Songs About Death, With Noise’, this collection of nine new songs muses on the death of loved ones, of relationships, and of youth. The languid exuberance of early works has matured here, with the familiar guitar/bass/drums set-up expanded to include accordion, violin, acoustic guitar and synths. Lyrically stoical in the face of it's dark subject matter, and with melodies that greet sadness with warmth, 'To Be Beatuiful' radiates an atmospheric ambience articulating the band’s reflective vantage point. An excellent return from a much-missed group of artists.
'8/10 - Long-promised reunion recalls languorous early charms' - UNCUT
'With their first album in twenty years, Madder Rose return with an exquisitely-crafted collection of atmospheric art-pop…. from a fully-rebloomed Madder Rose, a remotely-assembled but remarkably-cohesive reunion LP... Spaciously-produced but packed full of inventive intricacies that reveal themselves on repeated spins’ – Concrete Islands
‘This fifth album…happily recalls the mellowest portions of 1994’s Panic On. To Be Beautiful’s hushed restraint is interrupted by shards of cavernous guitars’ – Long Live Vinyl
'Madder Rose always seemed to be a band who played by their own rules, and it seems that little has changed in that respect in the last 20 years. To Be Beautiful is an album to get lost in, and it feels like the warmest of hugs from an old friend.' - The 405
Madder Rose's Billy Cote gives a track-by-track commentary of To Be Beautiful, with notes from Mary Lorson....
To Be Beautiful: A song written after a conversation with Matt Verta-Ray about how your life is at least partially dictated by how you look. Gorgeous people generally have a leg up, and I say that without judgment or (my usual) cynicism. The song is likewise about how so many people long to be different. What is the answer? Why, self-acceptance, of course, or failing that, death. Or maybe get some exercise. Rick insisted that we include his gong on this, so watch for it near the end.
I Don’t Know How to Love You: Everyone falls out of love at some point, do they not? No? Well, this is a song about that moment and its aftermath, and the months, if not years of recovery, and more specifically, the small and oh so slow moments of healing. This song may be, in part, about Mary’s and my separation, because we like to keep it uncomfortable. I played an actual accordion on this, one chord at a time.
I Lost the War: I wrote this in my head while on a trip to NYC. My girlfriend and I were down to see the Bowie exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum, and we ran into Matt Verta-Ray on Rivington Street. Matt and I talked about doing some songs together, just the two of us, and I tried to write one that might be suitable. I quickly realized that we should include it on the Madder Rose record, instead. A lot of relationships feel like war these days – not just romantic ones, but work and spiritual and financial and political and sexual ones, too. How did everyone get so angry? I’m not sure. Maybe they should listen to this song – surely that will help. Rick had been pointedly suggesting that I put more guitar on the record, so there are nine tracks of it on here. No comment from Rick, as yet. Guess I shoulda’ put ten. Matt on bass – this sounds a lot like we used to, back when we were young and new, when Melody Maker would send Everett True across the sea to ride around with us in our van.
Hang Around Awhile: Mary wrote this one. It started out as a “chugging” rock song, but I wanted to make it atmospheric, which is my current bent. I see this as sort of a fun song. Now, I am generally opposed to fun songs (who are we, Herman’s Hermits?), but I like the way this came out. I’m not good at having fun – I don’t know what to do with my hands or face or personality. I’d rather dig a ditch than go to a club. But don’t let that stop you. Mary's note: I had some engaging progressions that I liked, and sort of knitted them together. Lyrically: notes on a breakup, from a distance, rather than the raw beginning of the end. Ahem.
City Lights: Another one about my old friend Don Greene, who in death, has become something of a muse. A song about walking around an admittedly idealized NYC late at night, when it was still scary and demented and super-strange. The old-time, weird-looking New Yorkers mixing with the transplanted, high-concept artist types, crammed together on a rat-infested island was surreal, but ultimately no big thing. Everyone just got on with it – good fucking times. Back then we thought nothing could touch us – turns out that wasn’t entirely true. Rick’s drum entrance kind of turned this song on its head, which was fine by me.
On Dit Adieu: Translation – We Say Goodbye. Mary’s song. Sad. Dark. Holy Shit. This song is one of the reasons that this record is subtitled, “Pretty Songs about Death, with Noise.” Had a synth bass on it at first, but Chris livened it up with his Fender Precision Bass, one that he bought off of Tony from Pere Ubu - the band, not the play. Pere Ubu once called an album Dub Housing, which I think is an excellent title.
Mary's note: Too, too many of our sweet people have died in the last ten years. The heavy mystery of this, and the strange sad mingling of the simple and the complex, made this rumination what it became. It started as a stand-alone song, then became a part of my performance memoir "Signals," but then didn't seem right for my last "solo" album Themes from Whatever. I'm very glad it found a home here, and I think Billy created a gorgeous atmosphere.
Roses: Mary’s song. This song contains 16 tracks of vocals. Another dark one. Such an interesting song. How much melody is too much? This much? No, we’re fine.
Mary's note: Again, just a shocking amount of death in recent years; I can't even speak about this one yet. It started as a poem expressing love and sympathy for a dear friend in mourning, which I read over a looper in my words-music residency. Billy heard it then. I didn't know what to do with it until he suggested we use it. I just opened up all over it with the voice, as you can tell, ideas swimming around. Nothing makes any sense, but I decided to let that be appropriate here.
Bye Love (Disastrous Love): Sort of a “Don’t Be Cruel” for the languorous generation. As an adult, one should not be immature or petty during a break-up – that being said, there’s no law against it. Upon reflection, this song should be shorter – oops!
GirlGhosts3: All synths. Same lyric as “I Don’t Know How to Love You,” but a different song, entirely. It’s called GirlGhost3 because it is part of an electronic project I do, partially inspired by the NY subway system. I like to think there are a lot of ghosts down there. I got the title when I heard my son’s then 5 year old cousin tell him about “girl ghosts” – I’ll have that, Lyndsey! Girl Ghosts1&2 came out in 2016 as a vinyl single on the Polytechnic Youth label in the UK, under my name. Roman and Lyndsey are both stunning teenagers now, by the way, so that means there is no chance whatsoever that they will read this.