I wont bore you with my Laurel Canyon obsession, I will, however, pin-point the fact that Jonathan Wilson is one of the most refined troubadours to spawn from the Canyon's post-acoustic scene in a long time.
Guitarist for the early 70s original country-folk sweetheart, Jackson Browne, Wilson's debut album is a dreamy whiff of stoned-out ambient refinement. It calls upon everyone from Taylor to Browne to King, while also owing just as much to Stephen Stills in its drugged-up, mythical enchantment.
'Gentle Spirit' is an alluring folk charm that's built upon a world gone but not forgotten. Evoking and magically conjuring images of lost spirits, the real seductive winks of this record can be heard, specifically, on the incendiary guitar that skips through 'Desert Raven' like a peyote fantasy in which Morrison's finally calmed down, Crosby's not trying to punch someone and Joni's giving you the eye.
Brian Fallon's relationship with words is one rife in blue collared romantacism. That much was established early on with all three of the Gaslight Anthem's L.P's.
His Springsteen comparisons, however, have began to flourish more under the cinematic glare of his new side project, The Horrible Crowes. Standing by the side of Ian Perkins, the inked New Jersey punk-rocker has rounded the edges of Gaslight's Americana to create something slightly more gallant, adorning those old time Move Star heroics that were always a little dormant beneath songs on 'American Slang' - that's not to say they didn't impact with with a valiant spark.
'Behold The Hurricane' portrays yet more triumphant rock and roll imagery as the optimistic bellows of the refined classic rock mini-epic builds into crescendos of grandiose brilliance.
While not a million miles away from Gaslight, The Horrible Crowes are something of an open playing ground for Fallon who can really cut his teeth amongst the mythological flare of nostalgia.
It's no lie that some of the best British bands who made seminal records in the last twenty years were high off their skulls on drugs. When discussing Primal Scream and The Stone Roses, I imagine a hefty dose of E, a handful of joints and a smidgen of psychedelic's would have just about done the job.
Not wanting to pin-point anyone as junkie or even a drug taker for that matter, I would not claim that the above substances had anything to do with Cashier No. 9's swelling technicolour outcome. With that in mind, it sounds like this Belfast four-piece were more susceptible when under the influence of The Byrds and and The Beach Boys perfected pop. However, Brown and Gillespie have definitely had their part to play...
The Lemonheads have announced that they will play a ten date U.K tour this winter, playing 'It's A Shame About Ray' in its entirety.
Evan Dano has an aptitude for penning perfected three-minute pop songs, the likes of which are often under appreciated, considering their lyrical brilliance. They take their seminal 1992 record on the road, ending at the Shepperd's Bush Empire on 13th December.
One of Dando's finest drug-induced songs. Astutely written, but ultimately, one of the most tragic and troubled songs you will ever hear.
My adoration for the players of Laurel Canyon has probably bored everyone I know to death.
Recently I got hold of a copy of 'Troubadours', a new DVD documenting the rise of singer-songwriters in early 70s L.A. It tells the wonderful story of how rock and roll took a breather after the Manson murders and the problems encountered with the Hells Angels at Altamont, to make way for the unplugged wordsmiths who changed a generation.
It seems that people needed something personal to once again attach them to the heart of music. While rock and roll was thriving, and we cannot take anything from that, there was something incredibly authentic and personal about the songs Jackson Browne, James Taylor, Joni and Carole King were writing. These sincere emotions were not accessible in the riffs of rock music that pranced about in egotistical poses, however, when Taylor penned 'Fire and Rain' those who had seen the L.A riots, the Vietnam War and the oppression of modern day America could relate to something, albeit sinister and heart-breaking...
The film also looks into The Troubadour itself. A club owned by Doug Weston on Sunset Boulevard that later spawned the likes of the Whiskey Go Go and The Roxy, owned by label titan, David Geffen.
Uncovering the dream is a beautiful and upsetting journey. As Crosby says, 'Free love and pot are a good thing but they're not the basis for a functional society.
We're hardly in a drought when it comes to music circling the dream-pop ilk, or any other genre for that matter. One a near-minute basis, labels are being crafted by musicians and band's who are creating a variety of melodies and swoons that splice classifications into pieces.
But innovation and new ideas will always be welcomed. So that's irrelevant.
Hailing from Vancouver, Shimmering Stars create the sort of spacey pop that Memory Tapes are known for, throwing in a little dreamy Cults and an up bringing embedded in the delightful whitened grins of The Everly Brothers.
They look like extras from Rebel Without A Cause but that pearly preppy preconception is quickly extinguished when their galactic popisms transcend upon the three-chord muffles of their love-lorn hip-shakers. 'I lost my mind, I'm losing you, it's just as well'...They may croon like lost teenage hearts but they have bold souls and even bolder songs.
While Ed Sheeran finds a new home on Radio 1 (and fair play to him), singing songs about heartbreak and bags of shit drugs passed around at house parties, Benjamin Francis Leftwich has been dealing with the hangovers and break-ups that Sheeran has yet to encounter.
Sounding like he was bought up on the morbid, no-hope depression of Death Cab, this atmospheric folkie delves into the reality of ambient, soul-crushing truths. 'Atlas Hands', which appeared on his 2010 E.P, 'A Million Miles Out', makes a reappearance on his 2011 debut album, 'Last Smoke Before The Snowstorm'. It's melodic and equally majestic, sweltering beneath the waves of picturesque neo-folk.
Treetop Flyers 2009 E.P, 'To Bury The Past', was a dusty country-rock debut that bought the eucalyptus trees and the stoned air of passed joints of Laurel Canyon to British shores.
It's enigmatic woos of 'Deja Vu', harmoniously rinsed through the shadows of a post-Manson L.A were oddly British with a clear adoration for a scene that spawned the infamous troubadours of the early seventies acoustic boom. There are inflictions of both Browne and Taylor throughout 'To Bury The Past', with the homely 'Old Days' beaming like 'Sweet Baby James' through the overcast English coast.
Two years later, the Treetop Flyers released their 2011 effort, 'Things Will Change'. While their debut was reflective of their hero, Stephen Stills, and his earlier work with Crosby and co. 'Things Will Change' mirrors both his and their progression in the form of Stills 21 track monster, 'Manassas'.
Standing at only four tracks it's obviously not a comparison in any literal sense. Given free reigns as the 'boss' on 'Manassas', Stills was devoid of Crosby's prying ego and the unpredictability of Young, thus thriving in a creative hub that he could truly call his own.
While ambitious and a little limp in parts, for the majority, 'Manassas' is a throbbing rock and roll sandstorm of burning guitar riffs and insightful lyricism that's as open as anything Stills have penned before or since. 'Colorado' is a heart-wrenching, mountain-trawling country hum of husky refinement. 'How Far' and 'Song of Love' blister with a glare that scours into the soul of rock and roll, completely dismantling it and rearranging it into dusty, country mannerisms that seem subdued but equally ache with the fervor that burned beneath Stills hunger to succeed.
'Things Will Change' mirrors this with eclecticism and hunger.
'Long Cold Winter', in particular, is more of what we want to see from the Treetop Flyers. It's soulful verses ebb and flow with winking pop-like hints, while the chorus' flicker through eager rockin' hooks and straining vocals. I think we can expect a stunning record from these guys, especially if these two E.P's are anything to go by...
