Castanets - In The Vines Жанр: Alternative Country Год выпуска диска: 2007 Производитель диска: USA Аудио кодек: FLAC Тип рипа: tracks+.cue Битрейт аудио: lossless Продолжительность: 37:52 1 Rain Will Come 2 This Is The Early Game 3 Westbound, Blue 4 Strong Animal 5 Sway 6 The Fields Crack 7 Three Months Paid 8 The Night Is When You Can Not See 9 Sounded Like A Train, Wasn't A Train 10 And The Swimming Cover art by Jason Munn
VINELAND HOUSE BAND Jesse Ainslie Steven Byrom Christopher Cory G. Lucas Crane Nathan Hubbard Henry Nagle Ray Raposa Rafter Roberts THE CLIMBING CHOIR Jesse Ainslie Nathan Delffs Nick Delffs Sayard Egan Jana Hunter Matthew Houck Brendon Massei Ray Raposa Rafter Roberts Sufjan Stevens Suzanna Waiche
THE STORY Ray Raposa of Castanets had almost finished his follow-up to First Light's Freeze (2005) when three men in strange masks mugged him at gunpoint in front of his home in Bedstuy, Brooklyn. Stealing Raposa's rent money, iPod and security, the three thieves climaxed a year of depression and nomadic, nocturnal dislocation. Not long after the mugging, Raposa completed In The Vines. If the Castanets' debut, Cathedral (2004) was a road narrative and First Light's Freeze a malaise of longing, In The Vines is an attempt to reconcile the fear of the spaces between the journeys. Says Raposa, "There is a definite rootlessness. Not so much pursuit as just waking up somewhere else, then somewhere else again. I have had to halt production and/or writing and/or thinking about this album repeatedly due to actual, incapacitating depressions. Totally crippling. The bad kind. Off of the road, it's been a pretty bad year." Appropriately, the album he was struggling to complete is based on a Hindu fable about being trapped in an inescapable fate, with death and the limitations of our physical lives closing in from all corners. The story is half of the inspiration for In The Vines. The other half is the wandering that's typified most of Raposa's life. From years on the road faking Greyhound passes, to moving to the Virgin Islands as a parentless teenaged professional surfer, to keeping tabs on expatriate journalist parents (father residing in Saudi Arabia and mother in Mexico), Raposa's life has been one of back seats and rest stops. In the fable story, "The Well of Life", a giant net stretched out by a giant woman surrounds a Brahman lost in the forest. The frantic Brahman runs in circles attempting to escape until he falls halfway down a pit and is entangled in vines. He discovers some bee hives halfway between the flesh-hungry six-faced elephant at the top of the pit and the waiting serpent at the bottom. As bees buzz around the Brahman and rats gnaw at the vines holding him up, all he can do is gorge on the sweet honey. Heavy stuff, yes, but it isn't all peril, and darkness. The songs are sung with such intimacy and earnestness that In The Vines "sways" somewhere between the serpent, elephant, bees and rats, the honey representing a strange sense of hope and delight in the brief moments of beauty that sustain our lives. THE SOUND There is community within the music of Castanets, one that keeps Raposa safe and sane while dangling in the pit. In this instance we have near-shipwreck-mate Jana Hunter, Nonhorse (Vanishing Voice), Rafter Roberts, Nathan Delffs (Shaky Hands), Viking Moses, and Matthew Houck (Phosphorescent). Recently the live Castanets' community has included such folks as good friend and labelmate Sufjan Stevens, Nick Delffs (Shaky Hands), Rob Lowe (Lichens) and Annie Clark (St. Vincent). This ever shifting cast makes it is necessary to drop preconceived notions about "bands" and "singer-songwriters" when approaching the Castanets. Castanets is always a "we," no matter if Raposa plays alone or with dozens. This collaborative effort spawns a paradoxical sound indebted to both AM Gold and the idiosyncratic fringes of music theory. He mines both to reveal treasures. The template may be country music, but the collective energy conjures up elements of noise, free jazz, black metal and electronic abstractions. "Following up a Kitty Wells cassette in the van with a Brotzmann disc or a Lichens disc or Hot 97” says Raposa. The album is a snapshot of an extended period of intense work, devoid of live audience but blessed by the detritus of players, city, country, ghost audiences, and improvisations of water, smoke and night. Raposa is the curator of his own art, seeking out potential collaborations to infuse the situation with multiple colors, subdue his ego-rule, and unearth the song's own personality. Raposa plays music with folks as an extension of enjoying and eating the honey.
While Ray Raposa wants his Castanets project to be recognised more as a band than an outlet for a singer-songwriter’s musings, there’s no doubt that the most remarkable imprint upon In The Vines is left by its central protagonist, rather than any of the contributing few, including Brendan Massei and Sufjan Stevens. This is an album weighed down by singular emotions, manifested by an individual in the wake of misfortune. The story: Raposa was mugged between the recording of this third LP and its 2005 predecessor, First Light’s Freeze. The incident affected him greatly: following a year of depression and a work-by-night attitude, Raposa was already in A Bad Place prior to the theft of his rent money, iPod and more. It’s far from a surprise, then, that In The Vines, conceptually semi-based on the inability to escape one’s fate, is morose from the outset. Opener ‘Rain Will Come’ sets a particular tone early on; divergences are few, but welcomed. The shimmer of ‘Strong Animal’ is distracting for its fullness following a few tracks of sparse arrangements and whispered vocals; it’s still a song seeped in melancholy, but its pounding percussion gives it an edge over the album’s less-developed pieces. There’s a semblance of celebration about ‘The Night Is When You Can Not See’, too – it’s departure, escape, successful avoidance of whatever fate presented itself at the beginning of In The Vines. Far from a linear experience though it is, Castanets’ third album nevertheless possesses a ‘journey’ quality – obstacles are overcome, and redemption attained. It’s no laugh-a-minute ride, but there’s a beauty in Raposa’s misery that’ll appeal to acolytes of Will Oldham and his aforementioned collaborators alike.
Everybody's got stories and histories and back-stories but when the lights go out and The Crazy goes down, what good'll they do you? What we need is courage, sanctity, and some love (carnal, secret, even troubled.) We need Son House or Charley Patton, nothin' but clapping hands, and hoarse voice telling us about Gawwwd, the Devil, that WOMAN. We need beats smashing outta the back end of a Cadillac in some back-end-town. And we get alla that with a Castanets record. Let's count 'em on our fingers; let's do roll call… Come 2004 there was Cathedral with country guitars and electronics that shook the bar-tops of San Diego, Brooklyn, and parts unknown. The order of the day was the strata of noise on noise, drones and dry-air crackles. First Light's Freeze was a dream of ice and piles of river rock and sticks and stones. Here we had American music from the old tradition, but witnessed in 2005, solidly, with no eye for nostalgia. This was the war-time fright, the big New Century chill. 2007 was In The Vines, and suddenly we were there in the backseat while the wind blew crazy through the car and drowned out everything but your own damn thoughts. ("Put your body, 'cross my body and sway, sway, sway" went the radio when we pulled over to take a leak.) It was lusts and swimming and a soaring ahhhwww of lap steel. There was blues dug outta the bilge of a shrimp trawler in the gulf and there was fireplace smoke and CMT country hits as heard sitting cross-legged on the bottom of the pool—deep end—while, topside, the barbeque goes on happily without you. (And when you look up through the blue warble of chorine water you can see the dimming sun hovering like burning seagull above you.) And don't forget, we're counting here. We're making a list so we can remember, or maybe so we don't have to remember. What's really important, anyway? All those hours you waste; how much of that is living? City of Refuge is the new record and it's a piece of authentic out-there-where-it-all-is living. There's stories and histories and back-stories; this one's got one. Let's just say: cars on highways like Conrad's boat up dry sand rivers thru heart of coyote darkness with nothing but cactus and glass squares and triangles from busted bottles pushed into the desert floor like green and brown windows into the Earth. City of Refuge, written and recorded solo in a motel, middle of nowheretown, where guitars're bold and distorted and sound like howling animals or pieces of rusted car doors strung with piano wire. Instrumental interludes are static sighs and coded transmissions from satellites twinkling over Barstow or someplace. (You ever heard a sound as lonesome as wind and nothing else?) And then we've got cleansing earth-joy on "I'll Fly Away." And then we've got love, sweat, and sex in "Glory B." Everything that came before is remade like Eve from Adam's side. Everything is like "whatever man, this's me now." This is 15 pieces of barren parking lots, butterfly knives, hot air, rumbling amps, warm beer, STILLNESS, and—somewhere, far off in that empty bar you wish you lived in—the jukebox is playing the most golden of high-plains country. Only, there's a flashflood coming; only, there's a methed-out posse fixing to make some fool PAY; only, the power's gone out, and we all gotta scramble around and look for a candle and—sffffhssss goes the match—and we see ours faces all orange-lit and smiling while the thunder booms down by the interstate. City of Refuge is Castanets. Castanets is Raymond Byron Magic Raposa.
"I hate white people fucking with hip-hop. That’s not my place." Despite frequently including other musicians, Castanets is essentially one man: Ray Raposa. The recordings, the concerts, and the music itself all come from his current interpretation of his own ideas. I spoke to Ray over the phone right before the release of City of Refuge (TMT Review). We talked about what that album signals for the direction of Castanets, as well as his thoughts on live performance and on his other new album (which is already recorded). During our conversation, Raposa was lost in Rhode Island, sitting in a coffee shop and wondering where he was going to go next. ---- Your album’s coming out Tuesday. Are you doing anything special to commemorate it? No, not at all. This album was done a year ago, so I can’t even begin to relate to who I was when I recorded it, let alone get excited enough to do something significant regarding its release. Is that a strange feeling, being detached from something that is old to you but new for everyone hearing it for the first time? No, it’s fine. It’s a matter of taking responsibility for what I’ve made. It’s not a turning point or anything significant. It’s just something that happened a little while ago. You recorded it in a motel, which doesn’t seem like the most ideal recording situation. What was that like? I wouldn’t describe it as not being ideal. It was in the middle of nowhere in Nevada, so there was nothing going on outside. It really couldn’t have been more low-key. The records before were in places where I had a lot of friends — San Diego being one example — so it was easy for me to get distracted or for things to get out of hand. Being in a motel was perfect – I didn’t know anyone; I didn’t want to call anyone; I couldn’t go meet with anyone. It was just me. I was grateful for it. How long are you in Rhode Island for? No idea. A day, a week, I hope. I don’t remember why I came. We’ll say a week. Then will you go back to New York? For a little bit, and then back out on tour with Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson. A lot of people are writing about him these days. He has at least one song that’s an absolute motherfucker, probably more, but there’s definitely one that’s just unbelievable. So that tour starts in a couple weeks, then to Europe, and back out here again. It’s pretty busy, but that’s to my advantage – I get restless otherwise. I end up in places like Providence, with no goddamn idea what I’m doing here, barefoot in the rain, asking people for maps and trying to find the coffee shop my friend works at. Turns out this is the wrong one. Your tours often incorporate several other musicians. Will you be bringing many people with you on this one? I think this tour’s going to be a four-piece. I like having people on tour with me because it frees things up – I know what songs would sound like if it were just me playing them, but that’s not exciting for me or for anyone to know exactly how they’re going to sound night after night. When I have folks with me, especially when they’re smart thinkers, I feel like it adds a capacity for expansion. That’s something important to me. Increasingly, I feel like bands these days are very well-rehearsed, doing their thing the same way night after night, and that works for them. I have a certain admiration for that, but I can’t envision wanting to pursue it. I would feel like a con artist. I think it’s a matter of being honest with the songs. There’s a big difference between playing DC on a Tuesday and Brooklyn on a Friday, and I would feel like I was cheating people if I did it the same way both times. That’s my issue and not anyone else’s, but it’s important. Personally, I do get disappointed when I leave a show feeling like I could have just sat at home and listened to the record and gotten the same thing. Is that what you’re trying to avoid? Yes, definitely. I wish that more musicians were on that wavelength for shows. That’s the difference I want to make, to avoid sounding like that. Did you have many other people playing on this record with you? There are people on it, but it’s a much more solitary record than the others. By nature of the circumstances – I was alone in a hotel in Nevada – it was done mostly by myself. I sent things out to Jana [Hunter] and Sufjan [Stevens] for them to use in their parts, but it doesn’t sound like a band record or anything. It was just a function of the fact that I couldn’t exactly fly everyone out to where I was. This is as far as I’m interested in pushing my music in that direction. The record coming out next is already done, and it sounds very rock ‘n’ roll in a good-time kind of way. So it will have a much bigger sound? Certainly, the next one and probably the next couple of records. I like loud guitars and big beats. I want to represent that in some fashion. That’s what I listen to, and I really like hip-hop and rock ‘n’ roll and metal. None of that is one dude in a room; there’s a lot of interaction. At the end of the day, that’s what captivates me, so it’s a natural progression and not a conscious pursuit. But at the same time I’ve been vigilant, bordering on militant, about not letting my listening habits get in the way of making records. When I’m recording, I don’t allow myself to listen to music because I’m very wary of subconsciously being influenced by it. I can tell you it would be really bad if hip-hop showed up somewhere in Castanets. I hate white people fucking with hip-hop. That’s not my place. Also, I’m pretty sure Larry Clark just walked by. And if that’s not him, it’s the deadest ringer you’ll ever see. by Elzee, October 2008
Quit Your Day Job: Castanets Unless you were born with one of those silver spoons, you likely work a day job, sneaking time for your own business when not taking care of someone else's. You're not alone. Every week, Brandon Stosuy finds out how our favorite indie artists make ends meet... A couple of weeks ago I ran into Raymond Raposa, a.k.a. Castanets, at Spuyten Duyvil, a beer and wine bar in Brooklyn. Always on the lookout for musicians with day jobs, I asked him a bit about his work history over some dark stouts, and found out he'd been a bona fide surf instructor before entering the more prosaic waters of record store clerking. In honor of this post-Memorial Day Quit Your Day Job, I thought it made sense to talk with Raposa about dropping in and hanging ten even if at this point he's only, well, California dreaming. Adding some storm clouds to this idyllic beach scene, Asthmatic Kitty passed along a very non-summertime track "Into The Night" from the equally winterized First Light's Freeze. No worries: the break from humidity's well balanced by the California-emblazoned sailboat shirt and Big Kahuna beaded necklace Raposa's sporting in the accompanying image. Currently looking for a new job (while wearing a beard that rivals Oldham's) he's at work on Castanets third album, due out this fall on AK. STEREOGUM: How'd you get work as a surf instructor? RAYMOND RAPOSA:I was living in Mission Beach, San Diego in a temperate haze. Days bleeding into days like nothing. Ambling about barefoot and easy. It's a nice enough neighborhood if you tune certain elements out. House was half a block from the beach; sandbars were generally pretty solid out front. I had a bunny. One of the guys a few houses down started a surf-instructing school with private winter lessons, and full-on camp style in the summer. Pretty much rounded up every free time surfer in the neighborhood (there were many) worth their salt and put 'em to work. STEREOGUM: What was your rabbit's name? What happened to him or her? RR:A girl I was living with for a while had a professor who was going through a bad breakup in which neither partner could bear to maintain custody of their rabbit. She took him and we built a little chicken-wire enclosure around our patio for it. We never put him out there. He was a total house bunny. Fahey Kirkwood. I'd take him for walks up to the sand a lot. He was really into knocking over stacks of cassettes and licking peoples noses. In the inevitable and arduous split between girl/me we went joint custody with him. I kept him for about a year, he moved to Golden Hill with her afterwards. It's been about four years since I last saw Fahey and I can only assume now that he has gone the way of all bunnies. STEREOGUM: What were you tuning out of the neighborhood? RR:Just general upwardly mobile Southern California stuff. The specter of the OC. The MTV Spring Break house being a couple blocks down from my house. The X Games being a block past that. When I was growing up in Mission Beach before moving away and back, it was a really weird environment. Pretty well localized. Lots of pride in itself. Those kinds of places are pretty much impossible to find out there anymore. By the time I was living there in my teens it was well on it's way to being any other well-to-do beach town. Edge lost. STEREOGUM: And what was the camp's name? RR:The camp was called Surfari. I kind of have a rule about puns in general especially in the context of a business and triply in the context of an employer, but pick your battles, right? STEREOGUM: Did you enjoy teaching? RR:I've worked quite a few jobs but this was satisfying like no other. Success rate for a two-hour lesson and session was pretty much 100% and folks're pretty stoked after that. Vibes was right. In the summer time I would wake up sometimes with a fair enough hangover and hustle down with a cup of coffee in some mood or another, but on the second of hitting water with a couple dozen amped kids, all was right. Camp would wrap up at 1:00 so I had plenty of time after to work on songs. Started writing the first Castanets album around this time. The winter more than the summer I guess. A couple years of this work got me pretty far on the easiest of schedules with the rewardingest days and the worst of sunburns. It could be said that thing went downhill for a little while after that but that's something else. STEREOGUM: How old were the students, on average? RR:The kids in the camp were about 5 to 15, all in one group. Average was probably 7 to 12. Lots of yelling. Lots of dodge ball. The private lessons were all ages and ended up being usually about half adults. They were a little bit heavier and a little less flexible so those ended up being the more challenging hours. STEREOGUM: How long have you been surfing? RR:I was in the ocean young. I was surfing competitively up and down the coast from maybe 11 through 17. STEREOGUM: Ever plan to go pro? RR:Sponsors, photo shoots, etc ... I had kind of a little freak out about taking that part of my life in that direction and ended up moving to the Virgin Islands for a little while in a bit of a panic. Came back a few months later and didn't talk to any of my sponsors and didn't do another contest. It was a close call. I can still pick up surf magazines in Borders or 7-11 or whatever and pull the old man trick of "I used to beat that kid all the time. He ain't shit." No one listens. STEREOGUM: If we listen closely to a Castanets record will we discover any surfing references/references to these experiences? RR:Doubtful. Maybe a little, little bit on this next one, but there are parts of your life and then there are other parts of your life I guess. I don't think the songs would serve it very well. There's little in it to work out. It's perfected itself. STEREOGUM: Jana Hunter mentioned to me that sometime when you play, you stand on one leg. Is that surf related? RR:Ha. I hadn't thought of that. Maybe a balance thing. A need to be re-centered. You can only play so many shows on two legs before you start to feel that there could be something else out there for you. STEREOGUM: Do you enjoy surf rock? RR:No. STEREOGUM: I've heard you love the show LOST. Are you drawn to the show's proximity to water? RR:Haha. Probably a water thing there yeah. I get super wistful with the beach scenes to the point of occasionally missing dialogue. STEREOGUM: When did you stop the surf instructing? RR:Kind of tapered off when I moved down to Ocean Beach. STEREOGUM: Did you work anywhere afterwards? RR:I worked at a coffee shop for a bit before leaving San Diego entirely, and then a record store/cafe here in Brooklyn. STEREOGUM: Where in Brooklyn? RR:Sound Fix on Bedford. Regular record store stuff. Getting bummed out on independent music. Talking people out of buying things. Worked there for a year and a half or so but it was getting to be kind of a chore for everyone to re-do schedules after every tour. Asi es la vida transeúnte. I am without money entirely now and will take anything any of your readers can offer me. STEREOGUM: Now that you're a New Yorker, when summer hits do you get surf nostalgic? Ever try to surf the East River? RR:I've been able to surf Nassau county out here a couple times. Beaches up there. I still kind of worry about spoiling spots so I'll just say it was terrible every time. Don't go. May 30, 2007
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Exact Audio Copy V0.99 prebeta 4 from 23. January 2008 EAC extraction logfile from 13. April 2009, 20:33 Castanets / In The Vines Used drive : MATSHITADVD-RAM UJ-860S Adapter: 0 ID: 0 Read mode : Secure Utilize accurate stream : Yes Defeat audio cache : Yes Make use of C2 pointers : No Read offset correction : 102 Overread into Lead-In and Lead-Out : No Fill up missing offset samples with silence : Yes Delete leading and trailing silent blocks : No Null samples used in CRC calculations : Yes Used interface : Installed external ASPI interface Gap handling : Appended to previous track Used output format : User Defined Encoder Selected bitrate : 320 kBit/s Quality : High Add ID3 tag : No Command line compressor : C:\Program Files\FLAC\flac.exe Additional command line options : -8 -V -T "ARTIST=%a" -T"TITLE=%t" -T"ALBUM=%g" -T"DATE=%y" -T"TRACKNUMBER=%n" -T"GENRE=%m" -T"COMMENT=EAC FLAC -8" %s TOC of the extracted CD Track | Start | Length | Start sector | End sector --------------------------------------------------------- 1 | 0:00.00 | 5:20.55 | 0 | 24054 2 | 5:20.55 | 3:12.17 | 24055 | 38471 3 | 8:32.72 | 2:00.65 | 38472 | 47536 4 | 10:33.62 | 3:29.71 | 47537 | 63282 5 | 14:03.58 | 3:39.22 | 63283 | 79729 6 | 17:43.05 | 1:21.62 | 79730 | 85866 7 | 19:04.67 | 6:23.24 | 85867 | 114615 8 | 25:28.16 | 4:30.68 | 114616 | 134933 9 | 29:59.09 | 3:27.43 | 134934 | 150501 10 | 33:26.52 | 4:31.24 | 150502 | 170850 Track 1 Filename C:\Users\123\Desktop\Мои документы\Musak\Castanets (lossless)\In The Vines (2007)\01 - Rain Will Come.wav Pre-gap length 0:00:02.00 Peak level 99.5 % Track quality 100.0 % Test CRC 2A13D7D6 Copy CRC 2A13D7D6 Track not present in AccurateRip database Copy OK Track 2 Filename C:\Users\123\Desktop\Мои документы\Musak\Castanets (lossless)\In The Vines (2007)\02 - This Is The Early Game.wav Peak level 99.5 % Track quality 100.0 % Test CRC 2E1ED038 Copy CRC 2E1ED038 Track not present in AccurateRip database Copy OK Track 3 Filename C:\Users\123\Desktop\Мои документы\Musak\Castanets (lossless)\In The Vines (2007)\03 - Westbound, Blue.wav Peak level 89.9 % Track quality 99.9 % Test CRC 54C1A6D9 Copy CRC 54C1A6D9 Track not present in AccurateRip database Copy OK Track 4 Filename C:\Users\123\Desktop\Мои документы\Musak\Castanets (lossless)\In The Vines (2007)\04 - Strong Animal.wav Peak level 99.5 % Track quality 100.0 % Test CRC B4C5CE03 Copy CRC B4C5CE03 Track not present in AccurateRip database Copy OK Track 5 Filename C:\Users\123\Desktop\Мои документы\Musak\Castanets (lossless)\In The Vines (2007)\05 - Sway.wav Peak level 99.5 % Track quality 100.0 % Test CRC C54AF89A Copy CRC C54AF89A Track not present in AccurateRip database Copy OK Track 6 Filename C:\Users\123\Desktop\Мои документы\Musak\Castanets (lossless)\In The Vines (2007)\06 - The Fields Crack.wav Peak level 49.6 % Track quality 100.0 % Test CRC D559F326 Copy CRC D559F326 Track not present in AccurateRip database Copy OK Track 7 Filename C:\Users\123\Desktop\Мои документы\Musak\Castanets (lossless)\In The Vines (2007)\07 - Three Months Paid.wav Peak level 99.5 % Track quality 100.0 % Test CRC F90FE067 Copy CRC F90FE067 Track not present in AccurateRip database Copy OK Track 8 Filename C:\Users\123\Desktop\Мои документы\Musak\Castanets (lossless)\In The Vines (2007)\08 - The Night Is When You Can Not See.wav Peak level 99.5 % Track quality 100.0 % Test CRC A741020F Copy CRC A741020F Track not present in AccurateRip database Copy OK Track 9 Filename C:\Users\123\Desktop\Мои документы\Musak\Castanets (lossless)\In The Vines (2007)\09 - Sounded Like A Train, Wasn`t A Train.wav Peak level 83.2 % Track quality 100.0 % Test CRC 92D078DF Copy CRC 92D078DF Track not present in AccurateRip database Copy OK Track 10 Filename C:\Users\123\Desktop\Мои документы\Musak\Castanets (lossless)\In The Vines (2007)\10 - And The Swimming.wav Peak level 99.5 % Track quality 99.9 % Test CRC E673CB56 Copy CRC E673CB56 Track not present in AccurateRip database Copy OK None of the tracks are present in the AccurateRip database No errors occurred End of status report
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