MP3: Sole and The Skyrider Band – “Shipwreckers” http://www.anticon.com/pr/Shipwreckers.mp3
Anticon artist Sole, known to his parents as Tim Holland, will release Sole and the Skyrider Band, his first album recorded entirely with a live band (and fourth official full-length overall), on Oct. 23.
Though Sole’s last album, Live From Rome, came out only two and a half years ago, and Sole has been busy in the meantime, recently releasing a solo instrumental LP, under the moniker mansbestfriend, and twice touring the U.S. and Europe, he nonetheless refers to the self-titled Sole & The Skyrider Band record as a “comeback.” It’s a curious term; what is a comeback exactly? Simply a return with a vengeance?
In some ways, it is a record of return—a return to rhyming, for one, particularly the complicated rhyme schemes that marked Sole’s early work, a return driven by his seemingly, but not actually, discordant love of both Lord Byron and Lil’ Wayne. Sole & The Skyrider Band also represents a return to the musical consistency and coherence that made the Alias-produced Selling Live Water a critical triumph.
It is also, though, more than a mere return. Even before he’d finished Live From Rome, Sole had become disenchanted with the process by which he’d been making music: get a beat, spit a rap, mix it down. Experiments with half of Twelve, an acclaimed improv outfit from Barcelona, and a detour into solo instrumental work followed, until a fortuitous series of events led him into the arms of the Orlando three-piece, Skyrider. Skyrider soon relocated to Flagstaff, Arizona, where Sole’s been living since his return from living abroad, and all of a sudden, music-making became a warmer, richer thing. And you can hear it in the music: these songs feel lived-in, composed but not cold or calculated, and fierce but not angsty.
Each song grew out of an organic process: they’d improvise; Bud Berning, Skyrider’s bassist and sampler conductor, would then comb the tapes for promising material; Sole would isolate moments in Berning’s selection and start to incorporate vocals; drummer John Wagner and omni-instrumentalist William Ryan Fritch would stitch in new sections; finally, all four would pound out the shape of the song; Berning’s keen editorial ear and perfectionist twitch dealt with the details; and anticon’s Alias
accomplished the mixing.
This process produced a musicality new to Sole’s discography, and also furnished a number of stunning juxtapositions. Witness Sole and Fritch’s interaction on “100 Light Years and Running,” which bridges the gap between chamber music and N.W.A. while serenading the glittering beauty of Arizona’s night sky, or the play of buzzing guitar, turntable accents, and liquid drums in “On Paradise,” where Sole riffs on a passage from Werner Herzog’s Fata Morgana. It’s a record where the lovely analog of “Shipwreckers” (where Sole jacks the hook from the Guy Debord film, Refutation of All Judgements) comfortably cohabits with the grinding, anthemic opening track, where Sole promises, “when the last buzzard eats the last candy bar from the last body on the San Andreas, it’ll be a sad day for investors.”




