Viento de los Andes is effectively Jose Arciniegas, who plays indigenous music of Ecuador and the Andes regions (as well as original compositions) on bamboo flutes and harrangos, a small guitar-like instrument.
As his website puts it:
Jose began to play music at the age of ten. He sang played quitar, quena and sampona and serenaded the girls outside their windows with love songs.
In America most girls would rather be serenaded by a Chris Brown song, but it’s their loss.
Ambrosia Parsley has the perfect name and bio for a fictitious singer–but only in one of those fanciful, Benny & Joon-type Hollywood films. The details seem too strange for real life.
According to Allmusic Guide:
Parsley’s first gig was singing with a 99-piece senior citizen banjo band at a local pizza place. At the age of 13, she left home, traveling the country and pursuing her love of music.
And from her Wiki bio:
In April 2004, Ambrosia Parsley embarked on a project for the liberal radio station Air America called Ambrosia Sings the News — a short song (always the same melody), usually under a minute or so long that attempted to encapsulate the contents of the previous week’s headlines. Approximately 47-50 installments of “Ambrosia Sings the News” were aired with some being live performances. The show was successful enough that a single titled “2004 (The Year In Review…For Anyone Who Can Bear the Mere Thought)” that summarized exactly what the title suggests was sold exclusively via iTunes.
The band name “Shivaree” is a Cajun term describing a drunken serenade to newlyweds (think Bert and Ernie in It’s a Wonderful Life). “Goodnight Moon” is probably their best-known song, having appeared on Dawson’s Creek and in the films Silver Linings Playbook and Kill Bill: Volume 2, where it played over the closing credits.
Sarah Borges delivers Americana with an edge on her second outing, Diamonds in the Dark. The album bounces between country, blues, bubblegum and–on “The Day We Met”–some brash, straight-ahead rockabilly.
Solange Knowles, younger sister of megastar Beyoncé Knowles (although rumors have suggested she’s actually Beyoncé’s daughter) is a singer of much more modest success than her sibling. Two LPs and one EP into her career, she has yet to chart a pop single in the U.S. Perhaps recording for a label named Terrible Records is tempting the hand of fate a little too much…
Still it’s not like Solange hasn’t released some interesting material. 2008’s “I Decided” topped the Billboard Hot Dance Club Play chart, and follow-up single “Sandcastle Disco” was another dance floor hit, despite the lack of pop crossover success.
The most distinctive characteristic of Solange’s music is the hip infusion of throwback sounds. Her 2008 album Sol-Angel and the Hadley St. Dreams was filled with 60’s and 70’s R&B cues (Motown, early Natalie Cole and Pointer Sisters) while 2013 EP True channels more of an 80’s synth-soul vibe. As for the single “Losing You”, it has the engaging sound of an early Madonna single.
Presumably we can expect a 90’s soul montage on her next outing?
According to the United States Bureau of Labor Statistics, 9,730 people currently work as livestock handlers (cowboys). Of these, 3,290 are listed in the subcategory of spectator sports, which includes rodeos and circuses.
That leaves roughly 6440 legit working cowboys. In other words, since the invention of barbed wire fences, there are several times as many dudes wearing cowboy hats as a singing costume than there are real cowboys.
Now just imagine they all chose to wear fireman helmets instead. THAT is how ridiculous they all actually look, except for our desensitization to it as something so commonplace.
Sometimes–not often, but sometimes–it’s an artist’s so-called “side project” that resonates more with a particular listener than their “day job” band. For instance, as respected as Steven Wilson’s Porcupine Tree is in contemporary prog circles, his work with Aviv Geffen in Blackfield means much more to me personally. Punk band The Bronx never made any connection with me until they made a mariachi album.
I’ll give you a second to absorb that last sentence.
Brothers Josh and Dan Ballard make up two-thirds of Until June, a band in which stratospheric vocals are matched with dramatic arrangements for an almost Coldplay-esque brand of hyperemotive pop. They are (or were) a fine band, and one which deserved wider popularity. Check them out here.
But the Ballards have produced music under at least two other brands. And it’s with brother Dan’s material issued under the banner of My Dead Air that I’m truly smitten.
It’s almost too good to believe the way a series of gently beguiling melodies follow one after another in unbroken succession on these too-obscure releases. Perfect for (among other moments) the bedtime hour, My Dead Air has been singing me to sleep for two weeks straight now, and as much as I like variety in my music selection nothing seems to be able to displace them.
Maybe the fact that this is more of a lark than a stab at stardom is the secret formula here. Where Until June’s music is driving, sweeping, almost melodramatic, with soaring vocals and kettle drum percussion for added gravitas (all things I love about the band by the way) this is the flipside of that band’s melodic pop personality: understated, with a relaxed vocal delivery and a soothing sound–almost lullaby-soft at times. The melodies bring to mind a few of the more haunting tunes on Ben Folds Five’s Reinhold Messner LP–high praise by my reckoning.
If this isn’t the music with which Ballard can break big on a major label, then I’m grateful for the secondary outlet of this side project. For me at least, My Dead Air has proved to be the most richly rewarding of his work.
Every Moment Has A Song 