ARTIST: Meredith Bragg
TITLE: Silver Sonya
LABEL: The Kora Records
GENRE: Indie
BITRATE: 168kbps avg
PLAYTIME: 0h 42m total
RELEASE DATE: 2007-12-11
RIP DATE: 2009-03-11
Track List
----------
1. My Absent Will 2:02
2. Twin Arrows 5:07
3. Turns Out You Won 4:10
4. Plinian 3:42
5. Ballad Of An Opportunist 2:51
6. March 2:51
7. Rejoice 6:23
8. Limbless Sculpture 3:35
9. At Least We're In It Together 4:17
10. New York 2:53
11. Alhacen 4:48
Release Notes:
http://www.myspace.com/mbandtheterminals
With his band the Terminals, Meredith Bragg has recorded a full album and an EP
of music that falls somewhere between folk and pop, with beautifully constructed
arrangements that lean heavily on guitar, cello, and unexpected keyboard
textures. For his first solo album, recorded after an extended European jaunt,
he gave his producers Chad Clark and T.J. Lipple two guide lines -- only the
sounds of his acoustic guitar and voice could be used, but once recorded they
could be manipulated in any way possible to give the songs depth and texture.
With digital technology almost anything is possible, but the producers acted
with remarkable restraint. The sounds they produce and layer onto the original
tracks take nothing away from Bragg's guitar, which is given a bright glossy
sheen without overwhelming its warm acoustic sound, or his voice, a fragile
instrument often compared to Ben Gibbard of Death Cab for Cutie and Elliott
Smith, but with a cordial, inviting timbre that's his alone. Bragg isn't afraid
to show off his knowledge of history or his intelligence, and one of the album's
treats is the way he juggles language. His songs about geometry and history are
just a beguiling as his love songs, all sporting elegant melodies and delivered
with incomparable grace by his openhearted tenor voice. "Twin Arrows," perhaps
the arrows of outrageous fortune, could be a song sung by the ghost of Julius
Caesar or Tutankhamen, serenading modern tourists as the way though the ruins of
Rome or Cairo. The guitar phases in and out producing shimmering overtones,
delicate chimes and the sound of chirping crickets. The subtle percussion could
be Bragg tapping on the guitar then looping the sound into a bubbly rhythm. The
result is a warm, organic electronica that enhances Bragg's aching vocal.
"Plinian" is the story of the destruction of Pompeii adapted from a letter Pliny
the Younger sent to a friend at the time. Despite its lofty concept, the
execution is down to earth and chilling. Images of falling ash, burning seas,
poisonous gas, and roiling volcanic clouds are presented simply by Bragg's
passionate vocal and strumming guitar. His backing vocals are wordless laments,
with the production emphasizing random bass notes to highlight the dramatic
lyric. On "March," the guitar is treated to sound like some kind of odd
keyboard, and the vocal is given a reverb-drenched tremolo. The song is the
lament of the month of March, complaining about her new position on the
Gregorian calendar. It's one of the most atypical pop songs ever recorded, but
it's brilliant in its execution and delivery. "New York" is more
straightforward. The City is viewed here as a siren luring unsuspecting friends
to their doom. Bragg's melancholy vocal is full of regret and loss, with the
processed guitar echoing the sustained notes of a church organ, giving the song
a funereal air. Every track glistens with mystery thanks to the low-key
production and Bragg's incomparable singing, making this unusual album a pure
delight.