Hello everyone and welcome back to Album of the Year 2019, the yearly series where the users of indieheads talk their favorite albums of the year. Up today, simonthedlgger goes in-depth on the massive Oncle Jazz from Men I Trust.
Artist: Men I Trust
Album: Oncle Jazz
https://preview.redd.it/8af3n1rzi0741.jpg?width=1200&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6e1d4a18f7bb2aa4c7332be7e2042a41af87aa34
Listen:
Bandcamp
Spotify
Youtube
Apple Music
Interlude
I can’t believe the odds. It’s December 26th, my favorite holiday not named Halloween. A day of leftovers and familial decompression. Outside, the year is ending. Pine trees, some still webbed with lights, lay on sidewalks.
Historically, December 26th is grey and cloudless. Cold, but not necessarily wintry. A void of a day, ideal for lounging and reflection.
“Have a lay in,” says the universe.
On December 26, it is constantly evening.
And now, there is a playful bounce of synth, murmuring bass like a bear waking from a long nap ... a swell of brightness:
“You’re listening to Oncle Jazz .”
Allow yourself, listener, for seventy ephemeral, December 26th minutes, to be swept away in jazzy philosopop fantasy. All smiles, slide across the kitchen floor in your brand new socks, treat yo self to a warm beverage and snacks, nest in bed as opening titles fade like a path into the deep forest.
I can only suggest you take that path. We’re about to Oncle Jazz.
Background
Men I Trust are a three piece indie pop band from Montreal, Quebec, Canada. The band was established by producemulti-instrumentalist Dragos Chiriac and bassist Jessy Caron in 2014. The pair released their self-titled debut that year, followed by Headroom in 2015, both of which featured numerous guest vocalists. After guitarist Emma Proulx became the permanent singer of Men I Trust, the band put out a series of successful singles from 2016 through early this year. After a few delays, Men I Trust released their third full length album and first as a trio on September 13, 2019.
Review by simonthedlgger
Except, this is not our stop. Ours is an elevator ascending the Ivory Tower, granting us view of all Fantasia. Our elevator alights the lobby of the Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino, where Men I Trust and The Martini Police tradeoff headlining gigs.
On closer inspection, Men I Trust’s music is neither simple nor restrained (though, production is artfully subdued throughout). It’s not even very relaxing, only enough to lull you into a vantage from which you feel comfortable enough to see yourself—perhaps for the first time—as something small within something very large, and to realize that largeness is contained within an even larger space, and so on until the mystery swallows you.
(That is not to say Men I Trust do not have their utterly charming moments, i.e. the deliriously joyous sing-along opening of “Days go by and I still don't know how and why I still make my way without you, without you.”)
On Oncle Jazz, Men I Trust plays timewarped pocket groove music, pulling together elements of modern pop, softrock, plenty of jazz (on show in their latest instrumental single, “Alright,”), and of course assorted lofi/synth/indie/sweet dreams pop, to make something distinctive, comforting but unnameable.
Several interludes further expand the scope of the Oncle Jazz structure, from the absurd funk of “Slap Pie” to the smoking “Fiero GT," lest we forget the balletic mystery of closer “Poplar Tree," which would sound fitting over melancholy credits to a Miyazaki film.
There’s a votive quality to the loop-like nature of the band’s arrangements, cycling frames that range in form from waves of Sega ambience to controlled yet driving beats which draw equally on the electronic and organic. So much happens within the confinements of these loops, yet every moment remains isolated, carefully placed. The songs sound like secrets, but not puzzles for the sake of puzzles: there is an answer to every riddle, a worthwhile conclusion.
“We like to use a lot of repetitive movements in melodies and chord progressions to give the songs a prayer-like rhythm,” Dragos told Crack Magazine, describing the band’s desire to draw listeners deeper into their sonic narratives. The recurring musical movements are complemented by an economy of words the band often discusses:
Achieving the ideal mix played a large part in the album’s prolonged incubation, with eight singles being remixed for their place among the 24 track album (several considerably so). The songs settle softly in the mix, warm pop rhythms bouncing off watery jazz. “I don’t think loud songs will give the best listening experience in years to come,” Chiriac told Billboard. I agree: Oncle Jazz invites you to absolutely bump the volume, clarifying the perfectly shaped bass tones and depth of reverb, the myriad details, without going deaf (fun fact, I did a write up on Angel Olsen’s All Mirrors for popheads, and the mixes on these two albums could not be further apart).
On “Seven,” you can hear prospective lovers whispering across a dying campfire. The rustic “Pines” paints an immense but lonely landscape (“She moves like wind by deserted pines who stand tall, unstirred,”).
After completing touring obligations, the band returned to Oncle Jazz. “When we spend too much time on the road, we miss being able to settle, to write and record without disturbance,” Dragos says over email. “Listening to a finished song, or album, is the most fun part of recording.”
Recording for Oncle Jazz took place in the green quiet of rural Quebec, which no doubt influenced the hushed mix (they’ve described the album as consisting of all “winter songs,” which isn’t a bad description by any means, but the undeniable warmth of Oncle Jazz makes one wonder what a summery MIT album sounds like). “It put us in a really different creative mood ... there’s nothing to do outside of the house except for walking and thinking about music,” Proulx said (Billboard). Indeed, the band have frequently described how their music focuses on the ways individuals play a small role within the macroscopic natural world; this sense of humble realization is all over the record. When further pressed, the band typically says songs are simply about friends. The interplay of the cosmic and intimate is one of several unifying threads that elevate Oncle Jazz from a standard LP release to a greater musical movement.
For, Oncle Jazz is its own radio station; at one point on the album, Emma clues the listener in: “You’re listening to Radio Men I Trust,” and I can’t help but responding, “Yes, I sure am,” every time. It’s a station wound in the layered textures of the Arturia Mellotron and Yamaha DX7; though, as with any decent station, there are a bevy of unexpected gifts.
“Dorian” consists of brilliant world building by the Zora River, recalling dreams of C.R.E.A.M. and nights spent shooting the shit with friends outside the corner store. You’ve heard the chorus melody a million times since you were young, but, no, it’s a melody only Proulx could deliver, her voice resembling bells and woodwinds more than vocals.
“Found Me” sounds like Nirvana. “Say Can You Hear” has that new wave drive.
The groove of “Air” is otherworldly. A mildly brooding verse spills into the euphoric hook: “So I thought you could come over mine...some time. Our loneliness now gone.” As with many Men I Trust songs, “Air” does not fade out, but dances away.
“For me, these contradictions make for a weird literary genre, at once positing the insignificance of humans and the god-like invulnerability of men and women of good. It’s horrifying and reassuring (the power of truth), sublime (greater than ourselves), and f---g funny,” I’m told. “It’s like watching a horror comedy. It’s a mix of emotions cancelling each other and it leaves me feeling like a blindfolded fool, puzzled with a donkey tail in his hand.” Read through a few Men I Trust songs, and at least one line will leave you handling a donkey tail of your own.
Of course, all Men I Trust lyrics are refracted through Proulx’s mesmerizing vocals. A French speaker, she has described the English language as another instrument (I challenged myself not to use the word ‘ethereal’ in describing her voice. Or ‘gossamer.’ Or ‘gauzy,’ ‘gracile,’ or even ‘as a light rain.’ So, I will not.). Her instrument contains multitudes.
Shortly before finishing this write up, I saw the band play a double header at Boston’s Royale and the Sinclair in Cambridge. Men I Trust played as a five piece, yet remained committed to the halcyon aesthetic: a t-shirt remained over the snare for the duration of the set, cymbals were chained, Emma’s vocals were so quiet you couldn’t hear her speak between songs -- even the roaring denouement of a guitar solo that closes “Seven” managed to melt faces without piercing ears.
No, Men I Trust does not make simple, chill out music. They make music difficult to fully grasp, no matter how welcoming the sound, how natural the fit.
Now, our time is at an end.
Favorite Lyrics
submitted by indieheadsAOTY2019 to indieheads [link] [comments] Artist: Men I Trust
Album: Oncle Jazz
https://preview.redd.it/8af3n1rzi0741.jpg?width=1200&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6e1d4a18f7bb2aa4c7332be7e2042a41af87aa34
Listen:
Bandcamp
Spotify
Youtube
Apple Music
Interlude
I can’t believe the odds. It’s December 26th, my favorite holiday not named Halloween. A day of leftovers and familial decompression. Outside, the year is ending. Pine trees, some still webbed with lights, lay on sidewalks.
Historically, December 26th is grey and cloudless. Cold, but not necessarily wintry. A void of a day, ideal for lounging and reflection.
“Have a lay in,” says the universe.
On December 26, it is constantly evening.
And now, there is a playful bounce of synth, murmuring bass like a bear waking from a long nap ... a swell of brightness:
“You’re listening to Oncle Jazz .”
Allow yourself, listener, for seventy ephemeral, December 26th minutes, to be swept away in jazzy philosopop fantasy. All smiles, slide across the kitchen floor in your brand new socks, treat yo self to a warm beverage and snacks, nest in bed as opening titles fade like a path into the deep forest.
I can only suggest you take that path. We’re about to Oncle Jazz.
Background
Men I Trust are a three piece indie pop band from Montreal, Quebec, Canada. The band was established by producemulti-instrumentalist Dragos Chiriac and bassist Jessy Caron in 2014. The pair released their self-titled debut that year, followed by Headroom in 2015, both of which featured numerous guest vocalists. After guitarist Emma Proulx became the permanent singer of Men I Trust, the band put out a series of successful singles from 2016 through early this year. After a few delays, Men I Trust released their third full length album and first as a trio on September 13, 2019.
Review by simonthedlgger
Men I Trust Radio
It’s easy to view Men I Trust as more “chill but danceable” Spotify recommendation-core. The formula is simple enough: breathy vocals over sustained synth, walking bass with jazz and/or R&B flavour, restrained rhythm section. Elevator music, if the elevator were taking you up to a Blockbusters/indie bookstore combo in the heart of Bushwick.Except, this is not our stop. Ours is an elevator ascending the Ivory Tower, granting us view of all Fantasia. Our elevator alights the lobby of the Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino, where Men I Trust and The Martini Police tradeoff headlining gigs.
On closer inspection, Men I Trust’s music is neither simple nor restrained (though, production is artfully subdued throughout). It’s not even very relaxing, only enough to lull you into a vantage from which you feel comfortable enough to see yourself—perhaps for the first time—as something small within something very large, and to realize that largeness is contained within an even larger space, and so on until the mystery swallows you.
(That is not to say Men I Trust do not have their utterly charming moments, i.e. the deliriously joyous sing-along opening of “Days go by and I still don't know how and why I still make my way without you, without you.”)
On Oncle Jazz, Men I Trust plays timewarped pocket groove music, pulling together elements of modern pop, softrock, plenty of jazz (on show in their latest instrumental single, “Alright,”), and of course assorted lofi/synth/indie/sweet dreams pop, to make something distinctive, comforting but unnameable.
Several interludes further expand the scope of the Oncle Jazz structure, from the absurd funk of “Slap Pie” to the smoking “Fiero GT," lest we forget the balletic mystery of closer “Poplar Tree," which would sound fitting over melancholy credits to a Miyazaki film.
There’s a votive quality to the loop-like nature of the band’s arrangements, cycling frames that range in form from waves of Sega ambience to controlled yet driving beats which draw equally on the electronic and organic. So much happens within the confinements of these loops, yet every moment remains isolated, carefully placed. The songs sound like secrets, but not puzzles for the sake of puzzles: there is an answer to every riddle, a worthwhile conclusion.
“We like to use a lot of repetitive movements in melodies and chord progressions to give the songs a prayer-like rhythm,” Dragos told Crack Magazine, describing the band’s desire to draw listeners deeper into their sonic narratives. The recurring musical movements are complemented by an economy of words the band often discusses:
“I will ... find the way in which I can concentrate [a thought’s] meaning, saying the most with the least words. It’s Bernstein’s idea of poetry and it’s also a necessary constraint inherent to the song genre,” Dragos told me. “Sometimes, these ideas end in Men I Trust songs.”The band takes this minimalist approach to either ends of the spectrum, always leaving room for the listener to process and derive meaning. Compare the simplicity of “All Night” (“You wrap my feet in coloured blankets, so I stay here all night. You keep the one with many moons and stars, it’s always for my shoulders,”) to the stark poetry of “I Hope to be Around” (“I dream of my future, remote from time bounds, becoming myself without any end.”)
Oncle Jazz
The clarity with which Men I Trust operates is evidenced not only in the deliberate arrangements and concise lyricism of Oncle Jazz, but the actual conception of the record. Initially delaying the album after touring prevented the trio from finishing, then calling an audible the night before Oncle Jazz was scheduled for upload to major streaming services, there is never a sense of hurry when discussing Men I Trust. Rather, tranquil precision.Achieving the ideal mix played a large part in the album’s prolonged incubation, with eight singles being remixed for their place among the 24 track album (several considerably so). The songs settle softly in the mix, warm pop rhythms bouncing off watery jazz. “I don’t think loud songs will give the best listening experience in years to come,” Chiriac told Billboard. I agree: Oncle Jazz invites you to absolutely bump the volume, clarifying the perfectly shaped bass tones and depth of reverb, the myriad details, without going deaf (fun fact, I did a write up on Angel Olsen’s All Mirrors for popheads, and the mixes on these two albums could not be further apart).
On “Seven,” you can hear prospective lovers whispering across a dying campfire. The rustic “Pines” paints an immense but lonely landscape (“She moves like wind by deserted pines who stand tall, unstirred,”).
After completing touring obligations, the band returned to Oncle Jazz. “When we spend too much time on the road, we miss being able to settle, to write and record without disturbance,” Dragos says over email. “Listening to a finished song, or album, is the most fun part of recording.”
Recording for Oncle Jazz took place in the green quiet of rural Quebec, which no doubt influenced the hushed mix (they’ve described the album as consisting of all “winter songs,” which isn’t a bad description by any means, but the undeniable warmth of Oncle Jazz makes one wonder what a summery MIT album sounds like). “It put us in a really different creative mood ... there’s nothing to do outside of the house except for walking and thinking about music,” Proulx said (Billboard). Indeed, the band have frequently described how their music focuses on the ways individuals play a small role within the macroscopic natural world; this sense of humble realization is all over the record. When further pressed, the band typically says songs are simply about friends. The interplay of the cosmic and intimate is one of several unifying threads that elevate Oncle Jazz from a standard LP release to a greater musical movement.
For, Oncle Jazz is its own radio station; at one point on the album, Emma clues the listener in: “You’re listening to Radio Men I Trust,” and I can’t help but responding, “Yes, I sure am,” every time. It’s a station wound in the layered textures of the Arturia Mellotron and Yamaha DX7; though, as with any decent station, there are a bevy of unexpected gifts.
My friend, you know, you had your time awhile..but I'm willing to give you mine.
Late in the Oncle Jazz sequencing comes “Something In Water” like a plaintive siren out of the mists, “In this land with no sea, hoping time forgot me, 'cause I don’t need your love, only your full weight on me.” Guitars take the forefront, a rarity on Oncle Jazz, especially the submerged acoustics and posthardcore/proggy chorus lead that surprises at 2:22.“Dorian” consists of brilliant world building by the Zora River, recalling dreams of C.R.E.A.M. and nights spent shooting the shit with friends outside the corner store. You’ve heard the chorus melody a million times since you were young, but, no, it’s a melody only Proulx could deliver, her voice resembling bells and woodwinds more than vocals.
“Found Me” sounds like Nirvana. “Say Can You Hear” has that new wave drive.
The groove of “Air” is otherworldly. A mildly brooding verse spills into the euphoric hook: “So I thought you could come over mine...some time. Our loneliness now gone.” As with many Men I Trust songs, “Air” does not fade out, but dances away.
My friend, you have a vivid quill.
Despite the inescapably dreamy qualities of Men I Trust’s oeuvre, there’s a decidedly grounded sense to their work, a desire for clarity -- the contrast brings yet another level to the listening experience, lyricism weaving between daydreaming and existential doubt. “I Hope To Be Around” plays with Platonist-Socratic concepts (“I hope to be around the day we grasp in truth the nature of mind befriending time, in truth,”), though the breadth of lyricism and philosophical ideology (J.S. Mill to Goethe) makes it clear all members contribute to the writing process, questioning many aspects of self-significance and morality.“For me, these contradictions make for a weird literary genre, at once positing the insignificance of humans and the god-like invulnerability of men and women of good. It’s horrifying and reassuring (the power of truth), sublime (greater than ourselves), and f---g funny,” I’m told. “It’s like watching a horror comedy. It’s a mix of emotions cancelling each other and it leaves me feeling like a blindfolded fool, puzzled with a donkey tail in his hand.” Read through a few Men I Trust songs, and at least one line will leave you handling a donkey tail of your own.
Of course, all Men I Trust lyrics are refracted through Proulx’s mesmerizing vocals. A French speaker, she has described the English language as another instrument (I challenged myself not to use the word ‘ethereal’ in describing her voice. Or ‘gossamer.’ Or ‘gauzy,’ ‘gracile,’ or even ‘as a light rain.’ So, I will not.). Her instrument contains multitudes.
Men I Trust Lives
It’s a bit mystifying to reconcile the immaculate production behind Oncle Jazz and the band’s relentless, globe-spanning touring schedule, delays or not. Men I Trust’s fully realized sound on Oncle Jazz translates beautifully to the stage. “When we spend too much time working on recordings, especially on a long double album, we look forward to getting outside and touring,” they tell me. For Men I Trust, both playing live and recording are exciting paths to becoming better musicians, a thrilling prospect for fans. “The end results of both are especially rewarding.”Shortly before finishing this write up, I saw the band play a double header at Boston’s Royale and the Sinclair in Cambridge. Men I Trust played as a five piece, yet remained committed to the halcyon aesthetic: a t-shirt remained over the snare for the duration of the set, cymbals were chained, Emma’s vocals were so quiet you couldn’t hear her speak between songs -- even the roaring denouement of a guitar solo that closes “Seven” managed to melt faces without piercing ears.
No, Men I Trust does not make simple, chill out music. They make music difficult to fully grasp, no matter how welcoming the sound, how natural the fit.
Now, our time is at an end.
Favorite Lyrics
I don't want to feel
a world against our love.
I don't want to grow old,
a lone broken heart.
- "Norton Commander"
I'm happy my home found me,
by which force I do not know.
I found my home and it grows by me in beauty.
- "Found Me"
In a midway I stand where many stood
only to come home again.
Walking through these streets I know too well
but my thoughts stray away..
I dream of my future, remote from time bounds,
becoming myself
without any end.
- "I Hope To Be Around"
My friend,
you have a vivid quill,
a gift you need to use to feel alive.
Those hands look like crooked roots.
Pour them the right stuff
and feel alive.
- "Pierre"
- Do you prefer the single or album versions of songs such as “Seven” and “I Hope To Be Around”? Please elaborate :)
- What do you think a “summer” Men I Trust album would sound like, and more generally, what aspects of their sound would you like to see expanded on moving forward?
- What other fully independent bands should Indieheads be listening to in 2020?
