Heave Media

My Bicycle Emergency

An open letter review to this singer/songwriter.

Hey Wilson,

I got your new album, in the mail. I’m really happy you sent me your CD, and that you're okay with me describing what I think of it to others; especially when I'm doing it via a letter to you - because I thought it would be a good idea. Maybe it would make an album review a little more interesting. You putting so much faith and trust in me, or in anyone, to try and describe your work and art is very brave. I'm now feeling a bit amazed at the thought that some people get paid to tell a larger amount of people their observances and perception as to what something is like.

Tonight I went to a hardcore/metal rock show to see people two stepping to a band I have some friends in. I wanted to see my friends. I wanted to see them play and see what their band was like, but to be honest, what I was really thinking about during their entire set was how someone completely out of the context of our time would feel about a hardcore show, or mosh pits, or slam dancing, or the entire concept of the music industry at all. I couldn't help but imagining I was sitting next to a farmer from the 17th century who came from a large family and lived off the land, working all day so their family could survive. I figure he had just gotten in the Delorean with Michael J. Fox so he could be shown what rock and roll is. Maybe it was someone on the cusp of introducing the Industrial Age, and he had developed the technology so that things could be made on assembly lines, and therefore production values would go up. While he was so busy thinking of how much better he was making life for mankind in the near and upcoming future, I would grab him and take him to a hardcore show so he gets to appreciate what he's contributed to our society. I'll let your own mind wander with his reaction rather than explain it on my own terms, but I am relatively sure he'd think we're insane as a people or culture.

Part of the reason anyone from the past would think such a thing about our sincere robotic movements to the same “jud jud” songs over and over again is because that particular farmer (I'm just going to stick with the farmer, forget the guy who dawned the Industrial Age) missed the psychedelic 60's. It seems like that's when our entire culture and society was changed. I'm not crediting hippies for accomplishing any changes in the 'Establishment' necessarily, but the general social movement and outspoken fight for equality and other issues affected the youth of that generation. Those people raised children who carried those views on and on and on and on and on. Though it seems like those ideas and opinions and tastes continually evolve, I still think that it was the 60's where many things were redefined and changed radically, though, sadly, it's the 80's we tend to think of as 'radical'.

To make this long explanation shorter, it's for that very reason that our farmer from the past wouldn't understand what I mean when I say your new album, Forbidden Fruit, would be classified as “psychadelic ambient lo-fi folk pop.” Just like I'd have trouble understanding how to go about yoking some oxen or getting anything done around a farm if he tried to communicate those things to me. It's kind of a different language we are establishing over time as our focus changes on different mediums.

I think what I enjoyed the most about the album was the general feeling of melancholic hope (if there is such a thing). It has a sense of reality without a loss of hope, a struggle without the despair and an idealism that rests on an unsure foundation of faith. It's all of those combined descriptions that attempt to capture the general aura of the project.

It reminded me of Mason Lindahl at time, and at other moments it felt like Simon and Garfunkel or even Travis, but it doesn't sound like them at all. It just had melodies and hints that made me think of them, because this is completely you, entirely unique and one hundred percent My Bicycle Emergency, and it's nice to hear something that doesn't sound like anything else. Just you, Wilson, just you.

When you first gave me a CD a little over a year ago, I remember being a bit taken aback by how good it was. It's always nice to come across something good enough to stand out amidst the general humdrum of everyone's contribution to the world's collection of musical compositions. Each track is very unique and has it's own feel to it, despite the general consistency in production throughout the album. It's generally pop structured and littered with all sorts of fun, interesting diverting sounds and, let’s face it, I like pop music. The production is playful and painstaking at the same time. It's a good combination of catchiness and simplicity in song writing, while maintaining somewhat of an aversion to such overly clean cut pristine album production that seems to rid a piece or work of it's identity and character. I like the experimentation and your lack of fear to alienate an audience.

Anyway, about halfway through the first listen of your album my girlfriend went to rinse out the tub (we were doing some cleaning around my parent's house), and the lever for the faucet broke. We couldn't turn the water off, so I had to run and get a screwdriver and a bunch of tools to try and fix the tub. I didn't really fix it, I tried, but my dad went and turned off the water in the house, and I ended up not being able to finish listening to the album till a little while later. I wonder if I'll get to shower over the next few days. Actually I know I won't. Funny story, huh? Right in the middle of your peaceful lovely album I was jerked out of my silent joy by a breaking faucet and a constant flow of running water.

Thanks again for sending me the album,

Posted by Drew Danburry on Mar 03, 2008 @ 12:00 am