Don McGlashan, Burial, Janis Joplin, Neil Young, New Buffalo, Bjork, Neko Case, Jolie Holland, The Haints of Dean Hall, Cat Power, M. Ward, LCD Sound System, Iron and Wine, Calexico, Bob Dylan, Burning Spear, Cloudboy, Demarnia Lloyd, Django and Grappelli, Lucinda Williams, TrinityRoots, Jens Lenkman, The Front Lawn, Beck, Muddy Waters, Beirut, Radiohead, Gomez, Woody Guthrie, Sparklehorse, Carol Ann Duffy, Wilco, Whiskeytown, The Broken Heartbreakers, REM, PJ Harvey, Ursula Le Guin, Kurt Vonnegut, Ralph Stanley, Darcy Clay
Sounds Like
the sea, but only the more murderous, drowny parts. Not the nice beachy sunny parts.
Bond Street Bridge is Sam Prebble. He does all the singing and playing and writing and so forth, and the recording also.
Bond Street Bridge has an album out called 'The Mapmaker's Art.' It's available from usual outlets and from the Monkey Records website.
Various people have said nice things about it, including Graham Reid over at elsewhere.co.nz. He says it's 'very good indeed,' and rates it as one of the top 40 albums of 2008.
Jeff Harford at the ODT says it's 'strange and beautiful.'
Andrew Cheese on Toast says the album is 'darkly beautiful in its ingenuity.'
Malcolm Phillips at Bullet Magazine says it's 'truly captivating' in a very nice open letter.
Over at the Lumiere reader they're calling it 'highly recommended, an idiosyncratic and fascinating piece of music that showcases some real talent and fascinating musicianship.'
In Real Groove magazine, Phil Reed says it's 'one of the finest collections of new homegrown music to cross this desk in a while.'
Sam also plays in the Broken Heartbreakers and Reb Fountain's Bandits.
Video for 'Silver.' Written by Sam Prebble, Directed by Nigel Braddock, shot by Briar March, edited by Campbell Farquar. Featuring Sam Prebble and Derek March.
Video for 'motorways' by Sam Duckor-Jones and Tim Sissons. Featuring Tim Sissons, Sam Duckor-Jones and Sam Prebble.
....
Guess what we found in our teacup this morning? One small gold flake and a blue butterfly wing, both, it seems, found their way during our slumber, came there like ashes descend after-ember. We took these treasures to have clever meanings, gold is the morning, the other's the evening, taken together, they fill up your day, and leave their touch-traces, like tree-wind-kiss sways.
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