CD Odyssey Disc 1910: Jeffrey Martin

After a stormy few days the sun’s come out. I’d say this is great weather for contemplative folk music, but the truth is I’m always up for some contemplative folk music. Don’t believe me? Read the review.

Disc 1910 is… One Go Around

Artist: Jeffrey Martin

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? A perennial CD Odyssey favourite – the Giant Head cover!

In this case we have the Giant Head of a person (Jeffrey Martin) that looks in need of both a shave and a shower. Possible that third “sh” word as well, although there’s no way to know other than maybe the pained look in his eyes. I get the same look about 45 minutes after I eat that fourth slice of pizza.

How I Came To Know It: I can’t recall exactly, but it likely relates to Anna Tivel, as I am a Tivel fan and the two of them collaborate a fair bit (and yes, she appears on this record).

How It Stacks Up: I have three Jeffrey Martin albums, and I put “One Go Around” in first place. I do this knowing there is another record by Martin that might still best it, but to do so is going to take five stars.

Ratings: 5 stars

Jeffrey Martin is a natural storyteller, and his songs will draw you into other places, other lives, and ultimately, yourself. You’ll mostly like it, but it will also pinch a bit. Don’t despair (or do) – it’s all part of the process.

“One Go Around” is guitar forward folk music, uncomplicated but deep. Martin is clear and concise with plenty to say. Some of the songs have a bit of country poking through, and others are the direct inheritors of Dylan both in structure and scheme. You could argue that in a couple of places it is too reminiscent of Dylan’s clever rhyming structures, but that would be unkind. Dylan just did it first, it doesn’t mean other people can’t do it. That’d be like blaming the Beatles for ripping off Buddy Holly.

Martin focuses in on quiet and often desolate moments. You can feel the space between the road signs, as his characters – some autobiographical, some merely narrative – navigate discomfort and existential dread. However, at each turn he helps you find warmth in the darkness. Most of the songs set up hard conversations in your mind, but they resolve either with a lesson learned or failing that, a realization that you can’t carry it all. Songs like these help with the weight.

Case in point, the opening track, “Poor Man”, which walks us into the kitchens and bedrooms of the working poor. Stanzas like this:

“They’ve got a baby on the way but his wife still feels empty
Says it’s hard to feel pretty when they’re always counting dimes
He sits up nights in the kitchen in the dark when it’s raining
He can’t sleep for the sound pounding in his mind”

Remind us that life’s complicated for everyone, and not having money can be a major reason for those complications. The song ends with the repeated refrain of “I’m not a bad man, I’m a poor man”.

Later Martin turns his mind to the lives of the intelligentsia, with “Billy Burroughs” a song about the tortured life of writer William S. Burroughs. Burroughs famously killed his wife by accident while attempting to shoot a shot glass off the top of her head. Martin digs into what that would have felt like for Burroughs in the years that followed, ending with the perfect summation of:

“All Jack’s horses and Ginsberg’s men
Couldn’t put him back together again
He was broken by the weight of his sin
And his pen”

Jesus. Dark stuff. Famous writers and unknown labourers alike all have their demons, and to Martin all of their stories are equal in the telling.

Martin’s guitar work is simple but played with heart and good tone – a perfect partner to his scratchy storyteller’s voice. There are other elements in the arrangements (Anna Tivel’s sublime violin on “Thrift Store Dress”, Tyler Fortier’s banjo on “Surprise, AZ”) but for most of the record everything outside of vox and guitar is back in the mix and unobtrusive.

This is exactly what you want, because when you listen to “One Go Around” nothing should get in the way of the uneasy but illuminating wisdom of these 12 songs. Each one helps you live the lives of others, examining your own through that prism, and emerging like an ancient mariner after a storm, sadder and wiser, thankful that 55 years after we first heard Dylan, there’s still greatness to be discovered.

Best tracks: all tracks

CD Odyssey Disc 1790: Anna Tivel

‘Tis the season to not have enough time to get everything done, but tonight I’m making time for a music review. Not just a music review either – a coveted concert review as well! To read that just scroll down

Disc 1790 is…Living Thing

Artist: Anna Tivel

Year of Release: 2024

What’s up with the Cover? A whole lot of huggin’ Last week I received a hug from the best hugger in the world (you know who you are) so this cover is timely.

The hugs depicted here look pretty great also. Not a lot of half-assed side-hugs or awkward steepling going on. Just good clean body hugs that are firm and heartfelt, but don’t stray over the line into creepy.

How I Came To Know It: I have been a fan of Anna Tivel for a long time, dating back to 2017, so this was just me buying her new album when it came out.

How It Stacks Up: I have five Anna Tivel albums and am on the lookout for a sixth. Of the five I currently have, “Living Thing” comes in at…#5. Hey, something had to be last.

Ratings: 2 stars but almost 3

Most of my listens to “Living Thing” were in my car driving to and from work. This was not ideal, as Anna Tivel has a gentle grace, and her albums require a bit of quiet around you for best effect.

Despite the growl of engine and surrounding traffic, Anna Tivel still brought me under her spell yet again. “Living Thing” has a bit more production and “to do” than I’m used to on her records, but her thoughtful folk music still shone through in key moments. Perhaps it is singing over all the extra instrumentation, or just Tivel finding increased confidence with all those other records under her belt, but she sings here with more force and richness than on previous records.

At times I missed the predominant whisper vocals from earlier records, but this loss is offset with her showcasing just how sneaky good her voice is. Besides, there is still plenty of whispered brilliance mixed in.

Subject-wise, there aren’t as many great character studies on “Living Thing” as with previous work, replaced with a bit more straight-up philosophy. Tivel’s thesis seems to be some form of “life’s a mix of good and bad – embrace the journey”. Not overly creative, but a welcome message overall.

The best song on the album is “Disposable Camera” an up tempo (for Tivel) song that takes soft rock disco-adjacent radio from the early eighties and folk-i-fies it. I liked the effect – like if Blondie was really relaxed and singing to you in a library. In the song Tivel reminds us that life’s mysteries may never fully reveal themselves to you, and that’s OK. It isn’t particularly profound, but Tivel’s vocals have a “I’m sharing secrets” kind of tone to it that leaves you feel a bit wiser just by listening.

All of this was most welcome, but the vaguely electronica elements that intruded on other songs was unwelcome to my folk-anticipating ears. Anticipation is a bastard like that. Try as I might, I couldn’t shake my initial and insatiable desire for less.

Despite all this, the album was cruising for a three-star review when the final track took six minutes to do very little, and the part that didn’t do anything was just the sound of heavy rain on a roof. This, I could not abide and resulted in what was probably an uncharitable ranking for the otherwise always charming and thoughtful Ms. Tivel.

Best tracks: Real Things, Disposable Camera

The Concert – December 14, 2024 at the Royal Theatre, Victoria

This is not an Anna Tivel concert, per se, but it was for me. She was the first opening act during the 16^th annual Jon and Roy Christmas concert. Jon and Roy are a bit of a Victoria music institution for the past twenty years and are widely loved through the town.

Six of us attended (three couples) with each of my fellow concertgoers looking for something different. I was there for Anna Tivel, one of us wanted to hear M. Ward (the next opening act) and a couple more people were Jon and Roy fans. In the end we all got what we came for.

Anna Tivel

Anna Tivel came on stage first, her slight unassuming frame swimming in the ill-fitting but comfortable clothes her generation prefers, all the way down to white socks, no shoes.

Tivel has a quiet grace about her records, and this translated and then some into her live performance. Within a few notes she had the audience quietened down and eating out of the palm of her hand.

The guitar work was dead simple, but well played, and Tivel’s vocals came off in that quiet but powerful way that makes me a fan. Despite the simple arrangement and melody of her work, she hit a couple of surprising notes in there that were sublime.

Tivel didn’t play my favourite song of hers (that would be “Dark Chandelier”) but she did play some favourites. Notably “Riverside Hotel” about a homeless man watching a building get constructed, and a song about New York street life that I recognized but couldn’t name. Tivel didn’t say what the songs were called (I had to look up the name of “Riverside Hotel” after the show) but they still cut through the night.

As an opener to an opener Tivel only played five songs. I knew this was going to happen going in, but it was still hard to watch her part the stage so soon.

Usually I save the merch table comments to the end, but since I don’t care overmuch about the other two bands, I’ll cover it here. Tivel’s merch selection was…not great. Basically it was just her last couple of records, which I had. I was really hoping for a copy of 2014’s “Before Machines” or failing that, a t-shirt, but came up empty on both accounts. Still, a great show.

M. Ward

My favourite M. Ward music is from his partnership with Zooey Deschanel as one half of “She & Him”. Given “She & Him” had done a Christmas record, and this being a Christmas concert and all, I thought there was a chance (maybe 5%) that Zooey might show up to sing. Sadly, no.

That left me with M. Ward. I had bought his album “Post War” (reviewed way back at Disc 1121), for the song “Chinese Translation” but didn’t love the record and long ago parted with it.

But how would it go live? Turns out very well. M. Ward surprised me with his virtuosity on the guitar. Many of his songs were completely or largely instrumental, but he was so talented, and the melodies were so soothing, I never once felt like me was noodling without purpose. He also did some funky “record and loop” antics to add his own background players.

M. Ward did play “Chinese Translation” but it sounded forced and uninspired. I suspect he’s had to play that song a lot, and it may be time to retire it for a while. The Who did that for “Magic Bus”, M., and you can too.

He also played a version of Buddy Holly’s “Rave On” which I did not like (too slow/plodding) but overall it was solid.

Jon and Roy

As I mentioned earlier, Jon and Roy are a bit of a Victoria institution, and the welcome from the crowd was full throated and joyous. People were definitely amped for the experience, and despite my earlier encounters with their music being of the “didn’t dig it” variety, I was initially hopeful.

Sadly, that optimism was short lived. Jon and Roy are a mix of folk, alternative nineties rock and reggae. That should be a fun mix, but they insist on turning every promising start to a song to a sludgy jam session. I felt like I was hearing the same song over and over again.

They could play well enough, and the singer’s vocals are big and bold (sort of Gord Downey crossed with Kurt Cobain) but the songs had very little dynamics, and quickly bored me. They did establish a groove (the reggae part) and did that well, but I wasn’t feeling it or when I was feeling it, I was done with the feeling long before J&R were done with the groove.

What I was feeling was the guest trombone player. Yeah - there's a reason the photo above features him centre-stage.

I didn’t know who this dude is (but later found out his name was Dave St. Jean from another article by someone obviously more in the know than me) but he was the true star of the show.

When not featured in a song, he would stand on a riser in the back with his trombone in his hand making every groovy dance move known to man that doesn’t require you to move your feet. Head sways, hip sways, arm shifts, Dave had it all.

When he was called on to lead or solo, he thrust himself to the front of the stage like a force of nature, pumping that trombone with a jaunty fury. He was a joy.

Sadly, he was the only joy. Inevitably, Jon and Roy would return with their soupy mood grooves and lose me all over again.

I will say I was in the minority, and the room was full of J&R disciples, many of whom were up out of their seats by the end, gyrating away to what approached a religious experience.

Having long marveled at how beloved Jon and Roy are in this town, this could have irritated me but did not. I am a Frank Turner fan, and have many times been overly effusive in the face of other attendees wondering what the hell all the excitement was about. I’m glad those super fans had a great time, even if I was left, once again, in a profound state of “didn’t dig it”.

CD Odyssey Disc 1408: Anna Tivel

I’ve had a busy week and I’m looking forward to some much needed relaxation. Let’s start that off with an album review. I mean, you’re here, I’m here. At this point it just feels inevitable.

Disc 1408 is…. The Question

Artist: Anna Tivel

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover? A person standing on a ridge, except the picture is upside down. Why is this picture upside down? That is “the question” for me. This reminded me a bit of the cover of the Kyuss album “…and the Circus Leaves Town” (reviewed back at Disc 505) only way less interesting.

How I Came To Know It: Tivel’s 2017 album “Small Believer” was incredible so I gave this one a shot when it came out hoping for more of the same.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Anna Tivel albums, and if you are following along you know what they are. Of the two, I rank “the Question” at #2 but it is super close as they are both amazing records. More of the same, indeed.

Ratings: 4 stars

Anna Tivel’s “the Question” is not for all occasions. It’s not for driving your car. It’s not for background while you’re cooking dinner or cleaning the coffee table. It is most definitely not for parties (assuming at some future point we’re allowed to have those again). But if you give this record your full attention, and let its beauty steal its way into the quiet places of your soul, you will be glad you did.

Tivel sings with a small but powerful voice, almost whispering in places; a gossamer thread of sound that leads you through the night and into the lives of the characters she inhabits.

Those characters reveal their stories in the first person, and Tivel subsumes herself so completely into them so as to disappear completely, rebirthed as someone else for three to five minutes. In that short time span she manages to capture the essence of people as disparate as an illegal immigrant sneaking across the Mexican border, a janitor and sometimes – for a few intimate moments – a private part of herself. Her talent for character is so great, however, that you’re never sure if that latter experience is hers or just another, more subtle character study.

Around these ‘voices’ she twines sights and sounds that serve to underscore the mood of every song. Usually this is some version of wistful yearning, which in lesser hands could grow tiresome over time. In the hands of Tivel, it does not; it leaves you wanting more.

The production is to match, with sparseness and air between the notes to spare. Even when the music swells, it swells like a wave with no whitecap. The greater glory is to be had with what’s under the surface, if you can only quell your own restlessness long enough to look below.

It is hard to pick favourites on a record this good (you’ll see I’ve listed 6 of the 10 songs in the “best tracks” section below). That said, “Figure It Out” is particularly powerful, a song about love and vulnerability and the bravery to say you’re sorry and work it out. So many great images exist in this frail evocative tune, but here are a few:

“A siren, a catfight, a thin clarinet
The neighbours reflect in a blue TV set
And you’ve got a way of believing the rest will work out.”

The song is so quiet, you can hear Tivel breathing even as you hold your own, fearing you’ll break the spell with the resulting susurrus.

Another standout is “Velvet Curtain” which features a janitor who once had dreams of fame, now reduced to singing into her broom handle as she cleans up the empty theatre at the end of the night:

“The night circled in like a dog in the alley
All matted and skinny and face full of hurt
And the theatre still ringing with lost dreams of glory
The echoing voices of some brighter world.

“And I sang to the mezzanine, the gold-plated ceiling
The orchestra spinning, the bright chandelier
I sang so the angels would feel what I’m feeling
An empty so deep I’m afraid I’m not here.”

The song ends with a bittersweet victory, as a homeless man creeps into the back of the theatre while our narrator is singing, to clap and thank the singer for the song that lifted him when he most needed it.

Here, and elsewhere on the record, I was struck with Tivel’s natural feel for the strange connections between even people who don’t know each other. “Two Strangers” is the ultimate expression of this; a song where the strangers never even meet, but as one flies out of the city, they can feel the eyes of the other looking up from below.

As the final notes fade on this song (the last on the record) I always feel my heart has grown, Grinch-like, threatening to burst its way out of my chest. It hurts a little, but it is a good hurt, on a record that finds optimism and joy nestled in even the darkest places.

Best tracks: The Question, Figure It Out, Minneapolis, Anthony, Velvet Curtain, Two Strangers

CD Odyssey Disc 1156: Anna Tivel

I got home today a bit worn out from it all, but that happens sometimes. I’m resilient, though, and I had a lovely record to recharge my batteries on my long walk home. Let’s talk about that, shall we?

Disc 1156 is… Small Believer

Artist: Anna Tivel

Year of Release: 2017

What’s up with the Cover? This could have been a Giant Head cover, but it is so dark you can only see a portion of Anna Tivel’s head. Instead, let’s call it a Caput Ingens Obscura cover, because Latin makes everything sound more fancy.

How I Came To Know It: This album was reviewed favourably in a recent copy of Penguin Eggs magazine, so I checked Tivel out on her Bandcamp site. Bandcamp is a great way to see if you like a relatively obscure artist – just remember to give them some money if you like what you hear.

How It Stacks Up:  I only have this one album, so it can’t stack up.

Ratings: 4 stars

I had an opportunity on Sunday to just wander around town, and not have to be anywhere in particular. I’m an extrovert and I usually get my energy in the company of others, but I found the experience refreshing and thought-provoking. A big part of why was having the elfin lilt of Anna Tivel’s voice in my ear through it all.

Tivel is a singer-songwriter from Portland who composes intimate songs about ordinary people and their extraordinary hearts. Like every great folk singer she understands that when those small tales are told with honesty and care they become universal expressions of the human condition.

The record sounds sparse and it echoes in places. It makes you feel like you are walking down dark streets in the early morning hours with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company - or to be more precise, the thoughts of Tivel’s exquisitely drawn characters.

Tivel’s hard-scrabble characters don’t cut through the night so much as they are absorbed by it. Women flee broken relationships, sometimes looking back through tears, sometimes finding an inner peace in reconciling the good memories with the bad. Life is complicated after all, and surviving a rough patch can be celebration enough. These are stories that end unresolved. They land on the four and stick there, reminding you that long after arbitrary storybook endings, people have to pick themselves up and keep living their lives.

“Saturday Night” has a crooner quality that would be at home on some slow-moving Sinatra from the fifties, as Tivel paints the picture of that time of night when most decent folks have gone to bed, and the ones who are still awake are wrapped in thought:

“A raven’s asleep in the rafters, a stray cat circles a kill

From the basement, the tin-can laughter of a late night thrill

Tomorrow’s asleep on the front step, and yesterday dreams in the street

But in the basement apartment, a shadowy man, he just stares at the wall

He can’t sleep

And me I’m just part of the darkness, just trying to get something right

On a Saturday night”

Tivel doesn’t just sing the stories of people alone in their thoughts, she whispers to you a soft confession; she is one of them. Are you?

Tivel has a knack for capturing the fragility of otherwise hard characters. On “Riverside Hotel” a Vietnam vet sits and drinks out of a brown bag and takes what solace he can from the clang and crash of workers erecting a building across the street. On “Dark Chandelier” Tommy is a 31-year factory veteran, wandering town drunk after losing his job. “The rain coming down like a dark chandelier” as he confronts his rage:

“The heat and the rise of a burning shame

The pride in the work and the years that he gave

Just a flick of a pen, just a cold handshake

What’s a man really worth at the end of the day?”

Yet like the Riverside Hotel veteran, Tommy finds an inner strength. It may come as he lies bleeding on his lawn with sirens wailing in the distance, but it is there. Like many of her songs, Tivel ends “Dark Chandelier” with the melody unresolved, and while it creates sadness it also creates hope for what might come next. Or as Tommy quietly prays, “Don’t take me tonight, I got work to do yet.”

Tivel’s biggest challenge is that her voice is such a soft whisper. It perfectly suits the album, and makes the intimate moments even more vulnerable, but it isn’t hit-making material. This is music and poetry that requires a set of headphones and your full attention. The songs have a quietness about them that makes you fearful they’ll somehow blow away in a strong wind, if it weren’t for the conviction of Tivel’s delivery holding them in place.

When I left the house on Sunday, I’d already heard this album twice and I was prepared to listen to something else if I got tired of it. That just never happened. I listened to this quiet and dark-toned album amid the hustle and bustle of daytime city life for four days and all it ever did was enhance my calm. Because of the subtle way it steals into your heart, “Small Believer” may never be a commercial hit, but subtle beauty is no less wondrous when you take the time to appreciate it. I encourage you to do so.

Best tracks: Illinois, Saturday Night, Alleyway, Dark Chandelier, Riverside Hotel, Small Believer