:: Track Listing

1. The Foggy Forest
2. Hooray, You're Home!
3. Alisdair and Anne Dance to Dusty Sunglasses
4. Heard Through An Open Window
5. The Swells
6. "Happy Birthday!" as Sung by a Choir of Fishing Boat Skeletons
7. Weight, Worry and the Fishing Boat Skeletons
8. Lighthouse Arms
9. Leave for Fifteen Years
10. She Said to Him
11. Out Out Out!
12. The Open Arms of Waiting Waters...The End?

:: Record Review (No Big Hair)⊙ No Big Hair Home

Lighthouse Choir

Lighthouse Choir (NBH)
(Self-released; 2004)

Rating: 75%


One of the downfalls of being a Canadian trying to promote the national scene is knowing that some will begin to assume that favouritism is to blame. Numerous times this site has tried to use our, um, position to bring attention to several passed-over acts from the North -- most recently artists like Chad VanGaalen, Andre Ethier, Mike Trike, The Organ, McEnroe & Birdapres, Shotgun & Jaybird, Caroyln Mark, Young & Sexy, the Heavy Blinkers, and Epic -- that we feel deserve some extra, albeit comparatively minor, coverage. Not just because they're from Canada (though a lot does seem to be tagged along with that), but because we like the music enough to want the rest of the world to hear it when we know they probably otherwise won't. Now, I don't know how many of the five of you ended up checking out any of those records, but an extra thanks to those who did.

Like any other country, we do have our share of high-school bands with names like Klimaxx (you're lucky we keep this site a weekly, else we'd really let loose), and I'll be the first to admit my country's creative faults; but for a population less than California State, we also have our share of hugely memorable, and in many ways important, talent. The most dangerous (and ironic, for that matter) part of this so-called favouritism, then, becomes passing over a strong recommendation of a Canadian group based solely on the fact that "that writer seems to just hype a lot of shitty Canadian indie stuff." Maybe you're right, imaginary reader, but I also sometimes trip over a band that is so promising, it makes me thankful I have an output to recommend them in the first place. And what of it if they also happen to dwell from the musical mecca of....Cape Breton?

Ok, so it's no New York City or Vancouver, but Sydney, Nova Scotia's Lighthouse Choir -- the band I've been ignoring thus far to fumble over indie politics -- have more than enough talent to transcend a malnourished indie-pop/folk scene that continually plagues Canada's East Coast. I was lucky enough to catch them open for the Hidden Cameras at the Halifax Pop Explosion, and though admittedly my expectations weren't extremely high, the Choir played one of the most convincing opening sets I'd seen in years. Perhaps even since I'd seen the Strokes, pre-Is This It, open for the Doves, though I'm not even going to pretend there's a connection between the two in the least.

But let's not get too far ahead of ourselves; the Lighthouse Choir that performed at the Pop Explosion is actually a far cry from the band heard on this record. Self-released under their own omni.cloud label/collective (who knew Cape Breton had an art-pop community, of all things), The Lighthouse Choir was primarily a low-key project between Devon Morrison and Mark Boudreau with help from several friends that would end up forming the current roster (which now also includes Caroyln Lionais, Kyle Evans and David MacKinnon). Interestingly enough, it was recorded at a reportedly haunted former NATO base that spans eight stories underground, and also played a major role in the Shag Harbour UFO fiasco (which you can read about here).

Consisting of a series of intertwining two chord folk-rock songs with shifting first-person narrative tales from the dead, bookended by a series of instrumentals that work much better in some cases ("The Foggy Forest") than others (the shrill screaming of "Out Out Out!"), Choir is an impressively diverse debut, and one that definitely is able to make up for its several missteps with some excellent art-rock/folk. At times, it even bears more than striking resemblance to Colin Meloy's Decemberists -- beyond even their shared love of nautical disasters and first-person narratives behind ancient ghosts.

"Alisdair and Anne Dance to Dusty Sunglasses" opens the main body of the record -- chasing brief overture "Hooray, You're Home!" -- but is far from its most convincing track; the muffled vocals are more effective elsewhere, and its melody (which could've easily been on Andre Ethier's Featuring Pickles and Price earlier this year, especially the drunken chorus near the end) never seems to truly develop. After two decidedly disparate opening tracks, "Alisdair's" stark tradition might seem a bit much, but eventually proves to be far closer to the heart of the record than the Manitoba-esque textures of "Forest."

"Heard Through An Open Window" follows, and begins the body's string of infectious two-chorders. The version here actually retains most of the live arrangement's energy and tension; after a lengthy build, the band tosses out the traditional touches of "Alisdair" for a huge vocal chorus that eventually brings the song to its cacophonous end. Likewise, "Weight Worry and the Fishing Boat Skeletons" is the only other song to incorporate a distorted wall of sound (save "Out," of course), moving from its very own pirate sing-along to an unexpected and cathartic full-on expulsion of the entire album's build to that point. That the chord progression is practically identical to highlight "The Swells" is moot; both use their repetitive music backings to create two very different, but equally appealing, melodies.

"She Said to Him" closes out the vocal section of Lighthouse Choir, and is sung by now-full-time-member Carolyn Lionais, who also adds a wealth of background vocals to many of the album's better tracks ("Open Window," especially). Her confident timbre and decidedly more straight-forward lyrics stick out quite a bit after the barely existent "Leave for Fifteen Years," but Lionais' voice carries the song over its weaker moments, coming to a beautiful close before "Out Out Out!" unleashes a violent nightmare that "The Open Arms of Waiting Waters" does its best to tame and make sense of.

We do get a fair range of material here -- from post-rock to distorted freak-outs, a slew of acoustic ballads and even a pretty fucked up noise track -- but with the band's expansion, the inconsistent ability outlined here is finally brought into full colour, rendering many of its too-sparse arrangements ("Leave for Fifteen Years," "Lighthouse Arms") as irresistible as these studio versions of "Open Window" and "Weight, Worry." With any luck, they'll be able to capture this new-found chemistry with some consistency on their next record (which, according to their website, is titled Cominfortocarrryushometodeath, and is due in January), offering a more accurate recording of a band that is shaping up to become one of the East Coast's most promising acts since Buck first pressed record.
Scott Reid :: 10 November 2004 |