Seeking Paradise Through Song

Janet Reynolds — Fri, 20 Oct 2017 06:37:22 +0000

Western Massachusetts musician Jake Klar channels his wanderings into a new album of troubadour homecoming.

Jake Klar’s newest album, Until the Wildfire Becomes Paradise, will drop you into a desert and envelop you in the troubadour’s crooning narrative, and then carry you back to your living room, your ear pressed against a radio like a hit-hungry kid of the 1960s. This album longs to wander, just as it longs to come home.

That stands to reason. Klar found his voice in the desert of Texas at age 17 on a pilgrimage of sorts, where he returns every year to partake in The Crooked Crow Songwriter’s Retreat. He’s got wandering feet and a hot air balloon heart, steeped in the desert songwriting tradition, but those feet always carry him back home to his DIY community of hardworking artists in Western Massachusetts. Klar’s gathered moments congeal here as soul-feeding collaborations of all sorts. This album is its rock-n-roll manifestation. It’s for the heartbreaker and its subject, the wanderer and the homeward bound, and its release will be at The Parlor Room on November 4th, alongside collaborator Max Wareham.

This latest outpouring of Klar’s is two years in the making, its characters filled in and placed with care into each song. “Because I’m coming from a writing standpoint,” Klar says, “the songs are driven by words—those are the stronghold—words and emotion.” The poetry comes first. In “Counting Stars,” he sings, “leaving’s just the feeling of forgetting when you’ll be coming home.” And then there’s the album’s instrumentation, which wraps itself around Klar’s voice, echoing and feeding its fully bared and seriously beautiful howl.

Performed solo—just the crooner and his guitar—these songs hold a refreshing clarity. Klar’s voice, on and off the record, bellows from a seemingly deeper source than the belly, and while the worthiness of this record could rest on his voice alone, it doesn’t. Each song’s needs have been lovingly attended to—filled in with harmonies and quirky embellishments in spots, and pared down at crucial moments. “I’ve been thinking about space and silence as such a crucial part of music,” Klar says.

While his voice carries through the album, at its middle is a heartbeat, an instrumental interlude, called “Hot Air Balloon.” In this breathing pocket, the listener is granted a moment to reflect on Klar’s narratives and a moment to appreciate the album’s instrumentals. Max Wareham holds that heartbeat on the bass, while Joel Helander twinkles on the keys, a supernatural adornment throughout. Holding it down at the drums is Karl Helander, who also served as the album’s primary producer at Sleeper Cave Studio in Easthampton, Massachusetts.

These songs—a self-proclaimed bricolage of collected stories and emotions—find Klar nested in his artistic responsibility to make you feel something. “I want to work until I’m dead,” he says. “I want people to cry the way I have to songs, or, I don’t know, go fall in love with someone.” Klar is the storyteller and the trickster, sneaking around the country, plucking stories to gather and disperse beauty.

Want to hear what Klar listens to for inspiration? Check out our Take a Listen Spotify Channel. While there you can listen to what other musicians we’ve profiled are listening to as well.

Jake Klar–musician
Pelham, Massachusetts
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Top image: Jake Karl. Photo by Alex Pines

The post Seeking Paradise Through Song appeared first on Take Magazine.

Cousin Moon’s Polyphonic Ride

Janet Reynolds — Wed, 03 May 2017 15:00:03 +0000

You can call Cousin Moon many things, but “band” may not be a term all-inclusive enough to fit the breadth of what they do.

Cousin Moon is and isn’t a band. Yes, they are a group of people that play music together, and, yes, they just released an expansive album, a self-titled 17-track doozy of a project. It’s just that the term “band” cannot hold the entirety of their identity.

Cousin Moon is more like a recording collective, one whose roots took hold in 2004 between Karl Helander and his cousin, Aaron Moon, and one that’s been evolving since. The album itself is a masterpiece of DIY resolve. It places you on a vibrating string, dips you into melancholy wells, and then places you gently on the ground, slightly out of breath. Its sonic texture and layered harmonies leave your ears searching for an end to its depth. “Faraway,” a Karl tune, fills you with helium and takes your mind on a run around the block, while “Florentine,” Max’s song, weeps you into a trance. Cousin Moon is both deeply nostalgic and starkly contemporary.

Cousin Moon album art / created by Karl Helander and Phoebe Helander

When Karl met Max Wareham and Phoebe Berkel (now Phoebe Helander), he quickly folded the two into his familial project with Aaron. They were called Pale Cowboy, and they played out as a four-piece band. They rehearsed, played shows, and developed a local fan base.

Then, they met Andy Cass, who began recording the group tenaciously, and joined the group as their bassist and sound engineer. “A big part of the equation was Andy. He’s a part of the band, and he’s always believed in the group, at times more than us,” Phoebe says. “The key difference between us and other groups that like recording is that we have Andy.” The group decided to prioritize writing and recording, so they played their last show in January of 2014 and turned inward to record the album. Together they began chasing a high standard of quality.

“Having something to lean against was a natural propellant to hold down the sound,” Karl says, speaking of Andy and the group’s need to develop a common language. They started with around 30 songs and experimented endlessly. “We kept adding new instruments and sounds, and then subtracting—trying to create more polyphony,” Karl says. “As songwriters, a lot of the music we like is larger than life. As you start to develop a song, it tells you what it wants. We had unlimited tracks and time because we had the engineer.”

Engineer Andy Cass / Photo by Georgia Teensma

Now, three years after its inception, the album is finished. Cousin Moon won’t be touring, but they’re moving forward. As Sleeper Cave Records, the group is now recording other groups. “We have three separate projects that will be coming out of the studio soon,” Karl says. Adds Phoebe, turning to Karl, “You and Andy are now a two-headed recording beast.”

“We’ve got some stuff cooking,” Max says, and it’s clear that wherever this group is going, it’s upward and it’s for the sake of the song.

Cousin Moon
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Photos by Caitlin Driscoll

The post Cousin Moon’s Polyphonic Ride appeared first on Take Magazine.

Karl Helander – Take Magazine