Introducing The Bells, a new Luleå-affiliated project featuring Jonas Teglund (Park Hotell, Neverna), Peter Nuottaniemi (The Bear Quartet) and Johan Forslind. They have a full-length album on the way entitled "Threads" which was produced by renown musical genius/recluse Björn Olsson and will be released via the band's own in October. Unsurprisingly, it sounds a lot like a mix of Park Hotell and Bear Quartet (circa "Personality crisis"/"My war), which of course is perfectly fine by me (and should be for you too). Four tracks are up for streaming preview at the band's website, my favorite being the ominous/gloomy "Outside". Much like the Tsukimono track I posted earlier today, the song's spaciousness is a perfect companion to the sound of rain; furthermore, it hearkens back to some of BQ's most powerful work such as "Walking out". Resigned and reflective, revealed by severe simplicity, and yes, starkly beautiful; a song that says a lot with very few words/notes.
Once again, I am blessed with a guest contributor for this week's Bear Quartet post. Not only am I happy to take the day off, but I find that one of the best things about this series is reading other people's thoughts on the mighty BQ. So with that, here's Christoffer Davidsson:
There are a few things truly beautiful in life. It can be moments, places, people and so on. Lately, for me, it's been "I'm still her", one of many great songs on "Angry brigade". Peter Nuottaniemi's lyrics are hopeful, yet dark. Saying it's all going to hell, but that it's all right. I hope.
"There's happiness where and when I least expect
everything that I see will outlive me
there's happiness and of course fear and death
loneliness hard regrets, one fire less
we'll never ride into the sun with the end
hung above our hardships and our love
I didn't cry not until we lowered you
down into the cold ground the cold cold ground"
Jari's guitars are wonderful as always and I think Håkan Hellström would have killed for them, and maybe he will. Although Matt Giordanoalready covered this song, I think it is worth posting again. That's how good it is.
Enjoy.
Agreed. That's a statement that's impossible to deny.
This is another one of those songs that makes me giggle like an idiot every time I hear it. Aside from the chorus refrain, there's very little about the lyrics that's distinguishable to my ears without the words laid out right there in front of me. Naturally, being The Bear Quartet and seeing as how the lyrics are from bassist Peter Nuottaniemi, there is poetry behind the gibber-gabber though I find the meaning to be inconsequential to the enjoyment of the song. And there's that ridiculous wanky-blues breakdown, too. Genius? Yes, absolutely. Unnecessary? Sure, but it throws you off just enough so that the final chorus can floor you. I was iffy on BQ's new, more electronic and obtuse direction with the unveiling of single "I have an itch" before the release of "Saturday night", but hearing this song sealed the deal. None can compare! All hail! Extra-credit for the engineering geeks: check out the waveform for this track. It's ridiculous - nothing but boxes of sound, red-lining at 0db. When I was compiling all the tracks from "Reader's companion volume two" I was amazed at how unmusical it looked in comparison to everything else.
The Bear Quartet - Birds are singing deep within the greenery
Week #2 and we're going strong! Our latest Bear Quartet tribute post comes from Parasol's Jim Kelly, probably one of the biggest BQ fans I know. His pick? Well, read for yourself:
"World War III" is taken from the "Load it" EP, recorded in 2000 and released in very early 2001, one of The Bear Quartet's truly wondrous b-sides. A sweet, sad little song of truly epic proportions, with lyrics detailing a helicopter rescue and a childhood game of hide-n-seek gone wrong. It touches on fatalism and fealty (or a lack thereof) and finding yourself all sorts of lost for all sorts of reasons. And when it couldn't get any more melancholy, when the girl with the head-injury is happy to be in a helicopter, when the kid with the great hiding place realizes the game ended a long time ago and he's alone, what do they throw in instead of a guitar solo? That's right. Bagpipes. Or something suitably bagpipe-like, a mournful and keening wail, but it's probably just my favorite guitarist on the planet, Jari Haapalainen, playing mandolin through his Fender Twin, or something. So here I am with a lump in my throat and the solemn promise of further heartache (because you know it's not over)... Like when frontman Mattias Alkberg sings bassist Peter Nuottaniemi's wrenching lyrics in the closing stanza: "I was hiding from you who had gone home without telling me, and I swear that sometimes it's like I'm still out there." Hand me a hanky. "World War III" is Scandinavian Melancholy as a musical sub-genre, as a guilty pleasure, as an itch you enjoy scratching, as an incurable affliction, encapsulated in 4 minutes and 4 seconds.