At once both delicate and abrasive, Raleigh Moncrief‘s Don’t Shoot (Watered Lawn, 2012) evokes emotions of frustration and anxiety. The strong contrast and spinning imagery makes it hard to focus on anything for longer than a few seconds, much like the music itself.
If you were lucky, you caught Raleigh Moncrief the last time he was in Toronto Javelin at Parts & Labour on Queen West for Canadian Music Week. He took on a scattering of US cities afterwards, stamping them with his signature brand of glitchy experimental weirdness. These two songs are still some of my favourites of all time.
RIYL:Baths, Blackbird Blackbird, Dosh (or, basically anyone signed to Anticon)
Things I did today: slept in til noon. Ate an english muffin with a bit of egg. Played a song I wrote on the guitar. Listened to a Talking Heads record. Took a long hot bath. Browsed some music on the internet. Whipped up a batch of ginger cookies without eating 97% of the batter like usual.
Now, for your listening pleasure… here’s some music for Sunday afternoon daydreaming by Californian everywoman Chelsea Wolfe.
If you haven’t heard the delicious tunes of Sacramento weirdo Raleigh Moncrief yet, you haven’t truly lived. Think Animal Collective played backwards. Or making love for first time in a ball of flame. Or penetrating every single colour of the rainbow.
Lament for Morning is a song without resolution. It is semi-human, quixotically android – a vocal line that bounces around like a flock of ping-pong balls. The TR-808 hi-hat is a jaunty nod to 80’s hip hop beats. With this song, I can take on the world and win.
I can see the girl walking two feet ahead of me, keeping time with her headphones. I can walk up to her, place my hand on her shoulder, feel her warm skin under white cotton. But she doesn’t stop walking.