Eamon McGrath, Uncanny Valley, and Brooks & Bowskill
Eamon McGrath
In The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death // Cassette Records.
December 2022: when most folks were tidying up the messes (and successes) of the year before the New Year’s Eve countdown, Eamon McGrath appeared to be eyeing the road ahead as he unceremoniously dropped seven new albums on band camp (and later Spotify). Yes, you heard that right. December 31st/January 1st, seven albums were released. All were recorded through various points of McGrath’s life and each a different exploration into genre and theme.
When you listen to a McGrath album, you can tell it’s a McGrath album. Maybe it’s the signature low register vocals or the Leonard Cohen inspired style to his writing. Or maybe the chameleon-like way he manages to maneuver between genres so consistently that the lack of sticking to a single lane has become a signature trait for his brand. Who knows? After 300+ songs all written, recorded, and sent out into that realm bridging the chasm between listener and artist, McGrath has found a unique way to cement his style in the Canadian (and international) music scene. It’s no wonder that the former Edmontonian and now Toronto based artist has been hailed as one of the hardest working musicians in Canada. Through thick and thin, blood and sweat, a pandemic or, perhaps most brutally for a touring musician, an ongoing economic crisis: these curveballs have not faltered the guy. In The Valley of The Shadow of Death continues that unwavering tradition. In McGrath’s own words, the album is a “marriage between acoustic and electric […]. Recorded in the dead middle of an apocalyptic winter…” Keep that last line in mind when you listen to the album as it becomes a pretty relevant description within the first few tracks.
I’ll be honest – this was a tough one to review. It carries a heavy-handedness to it that, much like a final farewell to a friend, doesn’t quite settle in until you leave yourself enough room to get into that right headspace. But when you do, it’s absolutely worth the listen. The album is earnest in its temperamental relationship with sound. Each track pushes a different cadence to it – one an audible middle finger (“Anger In Paradise”) with others acting as recognizable cushions between takes (a healthy middle of the album with restless tracks like “Tides” and “Hours”).
“Anger In Paradise” is a standout track. The title alone is eye-catching; however, it’s a few seconds into the song that things start to unravel. I’d recommend wearing some headphones for this one. Pop them in, crank the volume, and immerse yourself. The sound design within the track reads exactly like an alarm: an awful, ear-splitting, and surprisingly delightful one with equally surreal lyrics. “In the cold breath of morning, as if the sun was forgetting – there was anger in paradise. I was drowning like a child. I was dangling like a drowning child.” This is the track that really goes wild with that aforementioned snowy apocalypse. "And the snow swept across thy lips…[…]We were waiting like patient patients. And the doctor was frozen to death…” Here McGrath manipulates his vocals into a harsh roar – “The fascists all hung upside down the square. We spat on their corpses and pulled out our hair…” It’s the type of visceral imagery that gives you a true apocalyptic feeling, all fueled by the tension-building sound mixing. Shit’s gone wrong – now what are we to do? There’s no clear answer as he finishes the track as he began: “I was drowning like a child…”
If “Anger In Paradise” is a fanatic amalgamation of technical prowess and poetic resolve, then “Tales From the Gutter” , “Bloordale Beach”, and “Valley of Death” are antidotes to the head spin uncertainty of the first two tracks. “I lost myself somewhere again. The morning flowed right through my veins – and I was fading into yesterday…” Maybe antidote is a strong word for it. “Gutter”, while lighter in sound, lyrically shares the burden of apocalyptic woes. It’s a pensive tune. But that doesn’t stop the track from allowing the listener a small moment of quiet solemnity after the anarchy. “Gutter” is the ‘morning after’ of the album, when the storm has passed but the windrows have yet to be dealt with. This track also has one of my favourite lines of the entire album: “I said a prayer to a god that didn’t exist. And if he did, he’d be a real prick.” It’s such a funny, ironic line. Pay close enough attention and you can hear parallels in that “Fuck you” idealism of acts like The Clash or early Johnny Cash. “Bloordale Beach” and “Valley of Death” offer similar sentiments.
The record has the intrigue of a finely crafted puzzle. Like any puzzle that’s at first tough to crack, the beginning is an enigmatic thread. Before you know it, you’re working quickly to unravel the contents. The album is an erratic punch of noise; at first startling; contemplative even; until finally, (and it’s usually when you least expect it; for me, it was over a cup of coffee late at night while working away on the laptop) the dawn of appreciation hits. “Oh!” You think. One piece of the puzzle finally fits and now you’re locked in, ready to dive into it again with fresh new eyes. I think that’s the beauty of McGrath’s music. Each listen has something new to offer. It’s never quite as straightforward as an initial impression may conclude. In The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death is a hard album to ignore: which begs the question, why would you? Go on. Give it a listen.
- Josalynn Lawrence
Uncanny Valley
Fevering Stare // Self-Released
“Thanks for staying late and dancing with the weird goth kids,” vocalist Alicia Palmar quips between songs. Something to that effect. This was sometime in the fall of 2022. I hadn’t actually planned on staying for this last act - I had come to the Palomino for some other band and had to work the next day - but decided to at least check out a song or two from this new-to-me punk quintet. If you’ve had the pleasure of catching Calgary’s Uncanny Valley, you’ll know exactly why I stayed for the full set.
After keeping us waiting too long since their 2018 demo, Fevering Stare is the debut full length from Uncanny Valley. In a wise decision, the album was recorded live off the floor, thereby harnessing the darkly urgent and compelling draw of their live show. Although influences like Siouxsie and the Banshees and The Cure are impossible to miss, the album isn’t derivative. Weaving together proto-punk, new wave, no wave, goth, post punk, and others from the alt landscape (although categorization of this work is a slippery subject), Fevering Stare is a venerable reworking of some of the best subgenres the 80’s had to offer. By blending in more contemporary pop and punk influences, the record also remains fresh and vibrant. It is pulsing, melancholic, and well worth a listen.
Drawing on darker thematic material and sonic feel, Uncanny Valley provides something sort of hauntingly bleak but still undeniably catchy. Not every band has the tightrope skills necessary to dish up lyrics like “I’m dying to die” in a way that is irresistibly danceable, but listen to track 2, “Hard Eyes”, and tell me you don’t want to get out on the floor. On the low end, bassist Ryan Von Hagen and drummer Tyler Arndy keep Fevering Stare driving at an urgent pace with tightly compressed 16ths and staccato syncopations. This is contrasted on the high side by Gwen Morgan’s ghostly synths that swell and moan over the rhythms and melodies, giving a spectral nostalgia to the tracks. Robert Vessey’s angular guitars slash and stab through the middle of things with precise melodies and well-placed disharmonies. Palmar's powerful and pleading croon ties the whole thing into a cohesive, slightly macabre dreamscape. Indeed, Fevering Stare possesses a dreaminess that verges on nightmare, but the group manages to maintain eeriness without sacrificing inviting listenability.
So stay late. Dance with the weird goth kids. You won’t regret it.
- Chris Lammiman
Brooks & Bowskill
Too Many Roads // Independent
I came upon Jimmy Bowskill about four years ago while watching a YouTube video of the The Sheepdogs song “Nobody”. When his time came to shine on guitar, he didn’t just shine, he shot out the goddamn sun! So when I saw Too Many Roads, I thought, shit, Jimmy’s got a side hustle, and I have got to review it!
The duo of Brittany Brook and Jimmy Bowskill, were brought together in whatever fashion you believe things happen for a reason. I personally believe it to be fate, and as fate would have it, these two found love and perhaps one another during writing the album. Too Many Roads is at times a picturesque time piece of the 60’s and the 70’s Country and Western scene. The two have an incredible amount of authenticity in their music. I absolutely appreciate and admire artists who understand who they are and hold no fear of being themselves. You would think the duo has been writing and performing together for decades, but that isn’t the case. This is their debut album, and undoubtedly was a labour of love. I feel as though these songs were meant to be written at this very time of their lives. Their music without question brought me back to my childhood, listening to Country and Western with my family, and the events surrounding those moments.
I may have said this here previously, but one of the many hang ups I have with music streaming services is there are no liner notes! I used to love reading the liner notes and I still seek them out! It makes me understand the creativity and the whole process of putting together songs, and albums. So with that, I learned Brittany and Jimmy are multi-instrumentalists, and Brittany takes it one step further by creating the album’s artwork. The album was produced and mixed by Jimmy, and recorded by Jimmy and Steve Marriner. Why do I add this? Because the album sounds absolutely amazing!
There is one last thing I have to acknowledge which caught me completely off guard. Jimmy Bowskill yodels, and damn it made me smile!
- Branton Langley
