The Rise is the first word in a conversation, the first step on a new, unkept trail. It’s the beginning of a new era for the Toronto trio, and the first of three pieces in a year-long puzzle, which will be constructed over three separate releases.
On its own,The Rise tells its own six-track story through Paul Banwatt’s thundering drums, Amy Cole’s hammered keys and crystalline harmonies, and Nils Edenloff’s furious acoustics and soaring, wheaty tenor. At times, it’s literal and visceral, like the blowing dust of “Lifetime,” or the hardy, galloping roadtrip post-mortem of “3 Sisters,” or the slow, naked march of “Late September Snow.” At others it’s hallucinatory and surreal, like the vivid, crashing dreamscape of “10Ft Tall.
Discussing this first installment of new music, and The RAA’s return, Edenloff notes, “We just go only based on heart and gut and try to let our minds get out of the way, because more often than not those just trip us up.” Cole adds, “We’re so intrigued by the idea of different perspectives and memories in these songs, and then this ultimate view of ‘Is any of it anything?”
That dichotomy—between what is assumed to be objective, real and tangible, and what is not is explored by Alberta photographerLeroy Schulz’s work that accompanies the EP and lead singles “CANDU” and “AB Bride.” Schulz flew drones over Alberta landscapes and took photos from above, looking down on rows of fir trees, barns, crops, and grass. From this perspective, the settings look unrecognizable, even unreal, like some alien planet. The shapes, shadows, lines, and textures are foreign, yet these are scenes of home.
The past two years have upended all that we thought to be concrete. The Rise, like this period, is a complication of what we assume to be familiar and true and unchanging. It’s the start of something new.
With Trying Not to Have a Thought, Algernon Cadwallader juggle intrinsic musical connection and shrewd lyrical intention with remarkable poise. The album’s title perfectly captures that dual approach: the effort to resist being mentally bogged down by the bottomless list of daily atrocities, and the band’s decision to let their unspoken connection guide this rejuvenated take on their classic sound. “This is just what comes out of us when these four people get in a room,” Helmis says. And this record is exactly that: an Algernon Cadwallader album that's leisurely, intensely, tremendously their own.
The 21st installment of Saddle Creek’s Document series features Whitmer Thomas, a multi-hyphenate whose unique vision has percolated across a range of mediums including TV, film, podcasts, and music. Tilt was recorded in Los Angeles with Jay Som and features contributions from Ian Farmer (Slaughter Beach Dog, Modern Baseball).
With I Hope We Can Still Be Friends, his debut for Saddle Creek, Dean Johnson makes a pact with the listener: He will sing you his truth in the most heartfelt and charming way possible, if you promise to keep an open mind.