Coda

Are you thinking of eclectic, mesmeric compositions with more instruments than you can name on one recording? Instrumental, of course. That's the Coda formula. When it comes to describing something so effortless it seems rather pointless - I guess this is something that can be appreciated by anyone with a broad enough mind. Elements of post-rock, classical, reggae, electronica and theatrics are combined by these talented people into entire moments of pure aural excitement. This is truly something to bask in and to savour.

So many people tend to lump Coda into some sort of "world" music section, when really, world music is everything once you consider the etymology of the word. A treat for both the eyes and the ears, the artwork adorning each of their releases is enchanting and entirely fitting of such music.

Listen:
Coda - Marine (Calling Mission Mu)
Coda - Giraffe Girl (For Our Animal Friends)

On Vitamin Records. Buy.

A subdued selection

First up, the letter V. Brought to you by Vitaminsforyou, a rather excellent sounding gentleman who, contrary to his name, does not distribute pharmaceutical goods. Lush openings and gentle rhythms let you drift off into the song. Wait for the kick at 2:24 and listen to the beat move the song further than you think it could go. If you like your homemade electronica with a folk-pop twist, try this.

Listen:
Vitaminsforyou - The Ukranians (The Legend of Bird's Hill)

Released on Sfeericle. Buy.


Then the letter A, followed by R, with Au Revoir Simone. Quiet, unassuming melodies with tinges of electronica moving through breathy but solid vocals from the three ladies in the band. It's what could be called twee, but slightly better.

Listen:
Au Revoir Simone - Through The Backyards of our Neighbours (Verses of Comfort, Assurance & Salvation)

Released on Moshi Moshi. Buy.

Jóhann Jóhannsson - IBM 1401 A User's Manual

Jóhann Jóhannsson, master of exquisite and often sublime instrumentation, has created an incredibly haunting piece of work with IBM 1401 A User's Manual.

Taking old tapes from an old computer manual, Jóhannsson's soundscapes are sparse and delicate, allowing for an odd sense of claustrophobia to take over when the instructor's voice permeates the reverberated silence on Part 2. Entire symphonies slowly emerge from within such little space and expand into near-whimsical pieces which uplift and captivate with the ease only hinted at on his earlier records like Englabörn. Johansson's skill is knowing when to reign in his compositions, and when to set them free: The Sun's Gone Dim and The Sky's Gone Black mutates a computer voice to sing along, all the while sampling opera and computer noises to elaborate his intentions. The result is an overwhelmingly beautiful record which brims with emotion despite its silicone base.

Sounds like: Tripping through the BBC Sound Archives with a classical score following your every move.

Listen:
Jóhann Jóhannsson - Part 3 - IBM 1402 Card-Read Punch

Released on 4AD. Buy.

So this is where it starts...

This is not about what's in right now, "so hot right now", et al. It's about the good music that comes out, and has come out, from this moment forth and from all the moments that have passed.