Nathan Larson
Wednesday, February 27th, 2008 by Paul Irishfilm music // melodic contemporary
First, watch:
While this video made the rounds late last year, the song stuck with me ever since. After some sleuthing (thx, brandon!), we know know that Mr. Nathan Larson is responsible for the delightful audio (and lernert for the video). He composed it originally for the 2004 film Palindromes by indie fave Todd Solondz. Inside the song, a lonely piano plays a somber waltz whilst a desperate female voice offers a most beautiful melody.
Lyrics that belie their melody’s beauty.
Nathan Larson - Aviva Pastoral
buy
Certain labels came to mind as I browsed 
The 
Kreidler has one of those sounds that teeters on the edge of being irritatingly experimental, but is pulled back by some solid acoustic instrumentation and a good sense of beat and build. Their debut, Weekend showcases an odd mix of chirps and clicks, along with some more conventional driving bass and lightly rocky drums. Some of it’s a bit Four Tet-ish, but it’s a little meaner with its melodies than the English artist, and the overall effect is something slightly darker.
Susumu Yokota has released a somewhat ridiculous thirty (ish) albums over the last fourteen years, mainly in Japan and mainly in the house/techno genre. Over here in Angloland, though, he’s best known for his ambient electronica that’s a chilling sort of blend of The K&D Sessions and the Myst soundtrack. It’s all layers of hum, echoing bells, and sparsely shaken beats, and blends dreamily into one, beautifully rich canvas of sounds. The tracks here are from his 2002 The Boy and the Tree; his other ambient albums are Sakura, Grinning Cat, and Magic Thread.
Distant echoes return with a subdued haze, in an audible maze that approaches your ear. Matthias Grübel’s voice sparingly appears to direct and translate, through his Phon°noir dialect, as songs often build, unfold, surprise and sometimes delight with a scattered, spackled, mysterious transformation of blips, glitches, instrumental and skyward noises that become waves and bursts, then disappear. He credits Leonard Cohen and Four Tet as influences; I agree.
Throughout his strongly evocative pieces for the soundtrack of Farväl Falkenberg, Stockholm-based composer Erik Enocksson reverberates the stories of a small sea-town life. As Erik Enocksson merges his minimalist folk tunes, sweeping instrumentation of acoustic guitars, piano, creaky wood, ethereal choir chant, and the simplicity of whistles and hand claps, he perfectly captures the feelings of isolation and hopefulness. Influenced by the coastal area, the soundscapes stimulate the sensation of brooding notes and a subtle hint of threat.
While post-rock fans have been enjoying 
Do you recall the beat of Busta Rhymes’ Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Could See? Now imagine a man and woman singing operatically over that beat in Italian, with a gently plucked classical guitar and accordion filling the air. If you’ve seen Volkswagen’s 
Cellos excitedly dance and play as subtle sounds find their way, like clouds taking shape in the sky, a vivacious harmony is perceived as Julia shares her Delay. She’s contributed music to Leona Naess, Devendra Banhart, Rufus Wainwright, among many others, and is currently performing with Antony and the Johnsons. If her name seems familiar elsewhere, you may remember her as an original member of Rasputina. All tracks on Delay were composed and performed by Julia, at home, in-between touring and traveling for about a year. An abundant warmth and persistence bellies this music, making most songs feel like a soundtrack in themselves.