our recent server problems aside it looks like this weekend is going to be another doozy - and one of those where the last thing you really want to do is stay in and watch a movie. luckily the recent batch of trailers i’ve been foraging through in the depths of my summer cold hibernation are all slated for autumn/winter release - its an odd, odd thing to be wrapped in blankets, dressed in fleece leisurewear and have people call you to tell you how glorious the weather is outside while you shiver and dream of a log fire, like watching the world go by from a different continent or something, but i digress.

be kind, rewind - the new michel gondry (trailer here) has me all in a whirl - jack black and mos def remake 80s movie classics after black’s magnetic brain wipes all the cassettes in the video store where they work. frankly, i’d have paid £8 to hear someone explain the premise to me in a cinema so the idea of getting to see that pitch executed by le bateau-des-reves gondry, has me tickled pink.

in the search for bkr(as the cool kids aren’t calling it)’s trailer i also happened across one for former wes anderson cohort, noah boambach’s sophomore effort. margot at the wedding appears to be a similarly fraught examination of family ties as the squid & the whale - and while i’m not as over the moon psyched about it as anderson’s upcoming darjeeling limited, matw (man, even i’m not finding this particularly funny… sorry) has got a solid cast, beautiful cinematography and looks like a worthy contemplatative arthouse feature. what took me most during the trailer however was the lilting diaphenous cover of crosby stills & nash’s our house. in a beautifully cyclical sweep the soundtrack’s version is performed by phantom planet, who’s drummer, jason swartzman appears as one of the three brothers in darljeeling limited, as well as having played max fischer in anderson (& baumbach’s) rushmore.

since we’re all lined up for another dappled, balmy summer weekend it seems only fitting that hickory smoke and torn denim of our house be the soundtrack to that. have a lovely weekend.

phantom planet - our house

leslie feist sports the kind of bangs so fierce i begin to wish away my blonde ringlets and dream of long, straight dark tresses and blunted fringe but not even a weekend with a hairstylist could engineer me those killer cheekbones and from where we stood behind the mixing desk last night, feist’s low slung guitar nonchalance and laid back canadian stage presence channeled patti smith at her flirtiest or joni mitchell at her most confident. much as i hate lazy comparisons about female singer songwriters (and no, i probably won’t get through this without mentioning chan marshall either) the fact remains that its rare to see that delicate rock/folk/indie/electronica head-dress worn by a chick and easy to understand how all the stripey shirted, beardy blogger boys go weak at the knees in her presence.

since my darling companion and i might possibly have spent an evening earlier this year learning the dance sequence from the 1, 2, 3, 4 video we were well prepared for some formation dancing and well timed hand claps which we managed to bust out without spilling our cans of red stripe over the assembled throng of kids with delicately tousled barnets and unkempt facial hair. but feist was polite, enthusiastic and humble when faced with what must be yet another room full of vaguely familiar looking hipsters and hangers-on. opening her set with an stomping electric version of ‘when i was a young girl’, splitting the room into an alphabetical register so we could all harmonise the opening of let it die, chiming and chirupping through tracks from her freshman lp and the divine reminder the set whizzed by. and all the time i was left in wonder at her voice, sultry and light, gravelly, fragile and sweet. all of the dextrous melody of joni mitchell without the abrasive top end warbling, louche and seductive without being seedy or needy.

she’s back in town in september, playing larger venues across the uk and i’d urge you to go see her. in the meantime (while i wait for maurice fulton to remix my man my moon) here’s a little something which ties in with our love and admiration for all things wes anderson (see jak’s post below) to the lady of the day. here’s feist covering the kink’s ‘nothing in this world can stop me worryin’ bout that girl’ a track which appears to deliciously satisfying effect in rushmore.

feist - nothing in this world can stop me worryin’ ’bout that girl (live)

photo via gu

Never been a particular fan of camping, so missing Glastonbury this weekend doesn’t feel like any kind of loss, especially when you see pics like this-maybe next year? (or not)-could go into a big rant about how lame and tweely guardian reader-y it has all become, but I think it will probably come across as sour grapes (and quite frankly, it probably is).

Instead I have a super-hl-exclusive from the wonderful, The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain who have a new album out soon (which is lovely) and are led (in part) by a good friend of ours Kitty Lux (who is also lovely).

The album, Precious Little, continues their winning formula of mixing clever re-interpretations of well known songs with a few of their own, equally fantastic, original tracks.

Here is their version Joni Mitchell’s (He Played Real Good) For Free.

Have a great weekend.

Returning from holiday to overflowing rss feeds in bloglines has reminded me of the need to pursue simplicity and avoid unnecessary distractions as much as I’m able (which isn’t very, if the truth be told).
I’ve started to deleting blogs I don’t read that often and am trying to be much more selective about things I subscribe too.

It probably won’t happen, but I think post-holiday resolutions should generally be encouraged (except the ones about never going back to work of course) Thankfully as part of the hl family I have constant 24 hour global backup against ‘missing’ any music that could otherwise slip beneath my wide and deep musical radar.

The great thing about having a collective is that you don’t have to cover all the bases yourself. Every now and then one of the gang stumbles across something you have been after for a while and sends it your way and all is well with the world.

Today, it was the ever beautiful jb with this little nugget from blue note’s ‘hope for the hiphop generation’ Robert Glasper. Generally (for which you can read always) I tend to give jazz/hip hop a really wide berth, but the idea of someone re-interpreting the dilla aesthetic within a jazz context sounded really interesting.

And so it is.

Clocking in at a concise 4:28 the track borrows stylistically from dilla, coming the form of a mini-montage (complete with tired but generic answer-phone intro) of two tracks, one live/one recorded. Both sections sound amazing, hinting at something really fresh without ever really developing the ideas too much. (maybe a nod to dilla there as well) The second part is a cover of Ahmad Jamal’s majestic Swahililand, used by dilla on the seminal de la track ’stakes is high’, and something I will never get tired of .

All in all it’s a great piece-’bout time jazz started looking forward again.

*update* thanks to cubikmusic for pointing to this interview with Mr Glasper which puts his work in a bit of context and has soundclips for loads more of the album.

The more I hear this guy the more he seems like the real deal.-able to bring so many different influences to bear on his work (just like any decent post modern jazzer should)-the Maiden Voyage/Everything is in it Right Place track is particularly worth a listen.

Robert Glasper-J Dillude

*update2* damn it!-just seen those upfront mothers at analog giant posted this sucka last week, so here is the ace, if very E.S.T.-y sounding, radiohead/herbie track I was talking ’bout instead.

Enjoy

Robert Glasper-Maiden Voyage/Everything is in it Right Place

image of rosie, denison and sufjan by liz wong via her artghost blog

on thursday night i ventured out into the sultry heat of kings cross all on my own to catch a gig. i’d not been to a gig on my own before, it was a strangely liberating experience. no worry about the person you’ve invited not enjoing it as much as you’d hyped it, the ability to squeeze into a small space for a better view and cheaper rounds at the bar. plus i sort of felt like a proper music journalist (not much fear of that usually).

the gig was a bit of a double header by two friends, who are also friends of friends.

confused? get some clarity after the jump. Read more »

so while some of us headed out into the megalopolis, midweek to test a new central london bar (that’s taking corporate social responsibility to its most selfless end) and others stayed in and took care of the blog (and their tiredness quotient) extolling the virtues of a quiet night on the sofa and off the booze, the following night saw some of the latitudes heading out on a school night to support our favourite yankee minstrel, mr j.tillman while he woo’d an audience of journalists and folkies on this current tour with jesse sykes.

even though the wilds of sheperds bush was not being done any favours by the weather, our merry troupe made it to the venue in plenty of time to catch the forty minute set, which ended with a song dedication to horselatitudes.co.uk (our first… and you know what they say, you never forget your first). more beers and probably far too many cigarettes later we were hanging in an hl local’s sister pub (the defector’s weld) and i found myself in the somewhat enviable position of sharing a table with not one, but five beardy guys all crazy-stuck on music and happy to chat the night away.

suffice it to say that tillman’s as sweet a guy as his voice betrays and its a pleasure i look forward to having again in the autumn, to hear him sing live all over again. weeks of on-the-road boredom, duty-free lucky strikes and rock cliche drinks don’t dampen josh’s voice any and his eyes-wide-shut journal-entry* songs filled the tatty baroque of bush hall, even if his sideline comedy stylings fell on deaf ears.

*not his diary, mind…

despite what i said last week about talking heads quickly becoming the hl’s most blog’d you know i’d never let the seattle-side down, and if you’ve not bought the double reissue of i will return/long my you run, j.tillman currently out on fargo records then get to it, immediament.

rather than give away yet more of his music for free we’re going to dedicate a song back to you, josh.

so here’s the rotary connection’s version of the band’s the weight, which although it’s kind of lighter and frothier does feature a rather awesome drum sound (not that i’m ragging on levon fo’ sho, bro)

i’m sure if i brought it up in a therapy session the reason for my love of cover versions would be deep and dark.

or maybe just lazy. no need to learn new words, no need to get to know a song; just sit back and enjoy someone else’s hard work.

but then i could argue that the effort and innovation which goes into a good cover is a worthy application of talent.

or i could just shut up and let you hear scout niblett’s vulnerable, pared down cover of althea and donna’s uptown top ranking.

scout niblett - uptown top ranking

every so often i’ll come across a song which absorbs me into its sphere in a unique way.

a way where the rest of the world could cease to exist and it wouldn’t matter because that one song is so perfect it fades all the deadlines, the overdrafts, the bills, the chores, the coughs and sniffles into the background in a haze of quixosis.

sometimes its about a little bit of a track, sometimes a particular lyric and sometimes just the whole package.

maybe since i’m in the very last few days of my twenties i’m feeling over sentimental - and heaven knows i’m prone to bouts of boundless romanticism at the best of times but add all of those elements to the fact that i love a good cover version; that this one’s by prince; that its of a joni mitchell track, well - it has my heart melting all over the place and sparks those big doe-eyes and sappy smile i’m wearing with increasing frequency.

dropping nearly a full minute (and chopping up lyrics) from the original, which appears on classic record collection staple, blue this is so short and sweet i keep having to go back and listening all over again (though i’m beginning to have my suspicions that this isn’t the full version). there are surprising comparisons to be made between prince and mitchell’s vocal styles and in retrospect it comes as little surprise to learn that prince was a teenaged joni fan. his prodigious, polyglottal musical talent lends itself the relatively pared down, soulful production, replacing the original’s guitar with piano, and sending it off into an old school jazz ballad of indescribable prince-ness (notice how reserved i’m being about spouting off about mr rogers nelson… i’m more than aware i’m on foreign territory here with someone who is fluent in the language and culture) its part of a joni mitchell tribute album out next month.

this ones for you.

prince - a case of you

if you’ve been reading your guardian recently you’ll know that bonnie ‘prince’ billy is currently touring the uk - and us horse latitudes’ll be at the Queen Elizabeth Hall to witness him in his gleaming-pated, banjo-strumming, moustachio’d glory on saturday night.
those of you who’ve been with us from the beginning, or just plundering our archives, will know that our first ever post was an oldhamfest so it’s nice to come on back around (as jamie lidell would say) to a man who’s output is worthy of consistant praise and regular attention. and though a fleeting cameo in junebug is his only filmic foray i’ve caught so far, word is the soon to be released and already award winning, old joy and guatemalen handshake are further evidence that the man of many names has equally many talents too.

check this advert for his recently released ‘the letting go’ lp, featuring tony clifton-esque comedian du jour and frequently bottled-off tenacious d opening act, neil hamburger and the delightful mobile karaoke of will oldham…

i urge you to head on over to drag city and catch more ads for ‘the letting go’, as well a selection of his promos with an enviable roster of directorial talent.

not often being ones to go with the grain, rather than furnish you with a bonnie ‘prince’ billy, or will oldham or palace brothers, or bonnie billy track today, my indulgent contribution to something for the weekend (which in this case should be called something for ‘our’ weekend) is an iron & wine cover of we all us three will ride from the excellent oldham tribute album, i am a cold rock, i am dull grass (also featuring hl crush and palace co-conspiritor, pink nasty).

Oh, and incidentally that long promised iron and wine post is still in the pipeline as i’ve developed a habit of posting on them without giving due care and attention to the genius of sam beam. and erm, in a shameless idolator-esque call to arms, should any of you out there have the pre-calexico demos of what became the ‘in the reins’ ep do get in touch and we’ll do something nice for you in return…

iron & wine - we all us three will ride

last time i posted, i mentioned my propensity for a bit of slighty cheesy r’n'b.

well, last night as i was hand printing my christmas cards (never a dull night chez moi) i was running through some potential selections for the best horse latitudes mixtape ever ™

(erm, not that its a competition boys…)

and for reasons best known to me, d’angelo’s 2003 ‘feel like makin’ love’ was soundtrack to my festive exploits and damn, if there’s a type of music its a uniquely solitary experience to listen to on your own, its that kind of soul.

so there i was, in the middle of a minor production line, my dad’s old shirt worn back to front (proper craft styles), sleeves rolled up and all i could do was think about *someone*
(and not in a filthy way)

but it struck me that if ever there was a track made for two people, but to be listened to by one, that might be it.

foggy memories, hazy promises and sleepy futures.
major props go to one james yancey for the frankly sublime jazz trumpet, a squelching, bubbling wah, and all that lean-back-hand-clap head bobbing joy, coupled with d’angelo’s laconic, slow-steady-hands-under-the-covers vocal… this wrings all of the wrigley’s ad, cali-rock from bad company’s orginal and sets it on a path all it’s own.
so *leans closer into the mic* here’s a something for the weekend for all you lovers out there…

d’angelo - feel like makin’ love