In the late 1980s, Urbana-Champaign trio Area crafted glistening goth-tinged pop for legendary label Projekt; in retrospect, the work of vocalist Lynn Canfield and multi-instrumentalists Henry Frayne and Steve Jones seems like an obvious precursor to contemporary dream pop and shoegaze. (The members of Area have also performed in the Moon Seven Times and the Arms of Someone New, among other groups.) Formed in 1986 in Champaign-Urbana, IL, Area was an enigmatic dream pop trio quickly hailed as the Midwest’s answer to England’s 4AD Records. On their second release and first vinyl LP, they merged the seductive, breathy voice and lyrics of Lynn Canfield with the radiant guitar and delicate synth inventions of Henry Frayne and Steve Jones. Finding their musical footing on RADIO CAROLINE, Area explored gentle spirals of emotive, fragile moods at once sad and beautiful. “They're almost all very personal lyrics,” noted Lynn Canfield in a 1987 interview with Italy’s Night Circle fanzine. “I'm talking about facts that happen to me on a daily basis, but it's never planned, it's not a conscious thing. The surest — and for me the only — way to write is to write what is definitely in you." Ranging from the straight-ahead rock of "Sweet Revenge" to the wistfulness and wintery "After the End" and “Crystal,” the variety of styles fits nicely with the late-80s music of the Cocteau Twins, Cowboy Junkies, Lanterna, Low, and Durutti Column.
Lynn reflects on the album & era:
Winding up to summer of 2023, Steve and Henry and I are in touch more often, removing thistle from a prairie and hanging out in coffee shops. It's exactly like 1987 and nothing like it. It's been fun to anticipate the release of Radio Caroline, to reminisce and threaten each other with new songs. Then when I saw where "Head Above Water" landed in Cruel Summer, I was shocked to learn my lyrics weren't opaque at all: those kids are at a party negotiating some serious tension, just like my pals and I had been doing in the red room. In other good news 35 years later, the folks in that song are among my best friends; we fell apart for a second but came back together for some major life changes and never fell apart again. Listening to Area takes me straight into the scenes behind the words and then into what unfolded from there, and it can be weird to realize them coming true. How would a person even know it if they'd been time-traveling?
Friday, 3 October 2025
Area - Radio Caroline
Area - The Perfect Dream
Area were a band musically that were right where they should have been for their time, circa ‘88. This is very 4AD sounding in the sense of Dead Can Dance, Cocteau Twins and This Mortal Coil, not forgetting Roxy Music and Leonard Cohen. The music is an exquisite combination of ambient guitar and synth noodlings over drum machine darkwave and dream pop, all hailing from Champaign in downstate Illinois. The dark, cathedral ambience and ethereal vocals of Lynn Canfield adds an air of mystery to the sound. Effortlessly seductive, reducing odd syllables to a whisper, a sense of calm weeping from every note in spite of the articulation of loss and loneliness, confusion and incomprehension, fears and pains, yearnings and soft burnings over ghostly guitars and scarce drum beats. Loaded with the sort of melancholia that you get when you write rather deep and introspective songs, this stuff still holds up, which is partially due to the fact that the gloom and doom seems real rather than painted on.
The highlight here with an opening thunder clap adding atmosphere is "With Louise" which is actually a rehash, adapting a song from keyboard/percussionist Steve Jones' earlier band, The Arms of Someone New, but the only difference being was the lack of a decent vocalist, plainly remedied here. Other tunes replicate a similar sound, while some, like "Sympathy," are more like straight ballads, Canfield's hushed croon with only the lightest instrumental accompaniment. As on their other albums, Area occasionally veer into more upbeat electro-pop ("Why Should I Worry"), falling somewhere between Gary Numan and the Cure, but this is largely a sombre affair best saved for sleepy, foggy mornings. The album is a triumph of minimalism, dreamscapes gently stirred to pale life through the gentle fingering of fretboards and keyboards.
Thursday, 21 August 2025
East Ash – Ellie
East Ash is a band with a
sound, a band that was all about a moment in the lives of a few people, a
chemistry experiment that worked perfectly just one time, a reaction that could
never occur again. If any band earned the title of local heroes in the late
1980s in Columbia, it was East Ash. The band formed in 1985 and, by the end of
the decade, had gained a large local following with their atmospheric, melodic
art rock with live shows involving anything from props to a Tom Jones impersonator,
the music still seemed the main focus both live and on the band's two albums,
"Crushing A Flood" and "Ellie". It was widely believed in
local music circles that East Ash was the band from Columbia that would make it
on some level. Unfortunately, even though they managed to draw healthy crowds
to The Blue Note, a reluctance to do major touring and interband tensions got
in the way of their potential. Helicopter guitars, awash in reverb, cough out
lines that range from purely percussive to soaring and melodic. Singer Jeff
Rogers accompanies himself on an evil-sounding fretless bass, and sings in an
anguished wolf-howl. The band has many moods, all of them bleak...at slow tempo
they are incredibly sinister. Up-tempo, they're downright scary, careening along
behind Don Cizek's obsessive, manic drumming and the wild guitar
extrapolations. Unfortunately this album doesn't hang together like
"Crushing A Flood". Find that one first for the undiluted version.
Wednesday, 20 August 2025
East Ash - Crushing A Flood
Saturday, 5 July 2025
The Arms Of Someone New – Promise (Re-up)
My body nearly went numb
when a local college radio station first made me acutely aware of this gem, and
quickly called them to find out who had just elegantly wasted me so
wonderfully. Promise delivers in a spacey understated manner, its calm and
reserved, all played out in the lower ranges, filled with a foreboding sense of
sedation, darkness and longing; yet without the heartfelt pain that one would
expect to have been implied. The production is masterful and comprehensive,
slowly ebbing its way from your speakers, while warmly and gently wrapping
around you like a warm atmospheric blanket, almost as if you’re having one of
those dreams from which you cannot wake yourself. Filled with longing lyrics,
though without a sense of desperation, the band seems more than happy to sit
quietly in the darkness pouring out these flawless flowering tunes that swirl
up and outward, like the blue smoke of a half forgotten cigarette, that begins
to make up and redefine the air around you, giving that air nearly physical
weight. The pace never quickens on Promise, it simply moves on at a heartbeat
level, filling your pockets and shoes with sand, weighing you down with sleepy
comfort, and inspiring you to just sit calmly and experience what’s being
played out in your head and on the stereo… all in a nearly hallucinatory
fashion.
*** You'll notice on the
jacket that the letter S in the word Someone has been confined within a circle,
this S stands for Susan, a name and person which was manifested on a previous
outing.
By Streetmouse
Wednesday, 2 October 2024
Room Nine - Voices...Of A Summer’s Day
Contrary to many of the bands in Seattle at the time, Room Nine had a much airier and psychedelic approach to their music. Although they never found the success of their peers, Room Nine was one of the early pre-grunge era Seattle bands that helped lay the groundwork for much of the later scene. Formed in 1980, Room Nine's band members consisted of Ron Rudzitis (vocals and guitar), Scott Boggan (vocals and bass) and Shawn Allen (he replaced original member Scott Vanderpool on drums). Vanderpool suggested the band's name from the door of their portion of the beehive that was Seattle Rehearsal Studios near Gas Works Park. During Room Nine's early days, Rudzitis and Boggan's home was called the Room Nine House, a place where local musicians and friends would socialize after gigs. Rudzitis shared the home with Feast drummer Dan Peters (later of Mudhoney and Love Battery), renowned Seattle photographer Charles Peterson, artist Ed Fotheringham, occasionally Vanderpool and other scenesters. In his foreword to Charles Peterson's 1995 photo journal Screaming Life, author Michael Azerrad later cited the Room Nine house as a key part to the formation of Seattle's music scene.
In 1986, the band signed to the tiny Louisiana based indie label C'est La Mort, appearing on the first instalment of the label's Doctor Death series later in the year. The following year the band recorded and released their critically acclaimed debut album Voices...On A Summer's Day. Room Nine could easily be confused as just another throwaway 80's indie jangle pop band, but upon further listening with standout tracks such as 1000 Years, Mirage and Seas Without A Shore, you'll notice the album combines intricate elements of post-punk and subdued neo-psychedelia with some catchy dream-pop melodies.
2. Revolving Door
3. Don't Look Back
4. Red Dog
5. 1000 Years
6. The Thorn
7. Mirage
8. Seas Without a Shore
9. White Summer
Friday, 20 September 2024
Heavenly Bodies - Rains On Me
Heavenly Bodies - Celestial
Tuesday, 15 November 2022
Johanna's House Of Glamour - Farewell Street
A weirdly arty but rather appealing little album, the full-length debut by Rhode Island trio Johanna's House of Glamour is an intriguing blend of Goth stylings, the shoegazer aesthetic of bands like the Cocteau Twins and Downy Mildew, and most interestingly, a strong echo of '70s progressive rockers Slapp Happy. Laura Darrow's dolorous voice and idiosyncratic phrasing are more than a little reminiscent of Slapp Happy/Henry Cow singer Dagmar Krause, and multi-instrumentalists Daniel Darrow and Bruce MacLeod create a serene yet mysterious musical bed filled with subtle synthesizers, keening electric guitars that sound like Robert Fripp in an atypically mellow mood, and intriguingly strange sounds buried deep in the mix. The lengthy songs unfold slowly, favouring undulating atmospheres over memorable melodies. The placid albeit vaguely foreboding sound strongly recalls that of This Mortal Coil, especially on the hushed cover of T. Rex's "Cosmic Dancer," sung by Daniel Darrow. It might take a few listens to really get into Farewell Street, but its well-worth the effort.
Sunday, 10 April 2022
The Arms Of Someone New - Every Seventh Wave 12”
The Arms of Someone New formed in Champaign, Illinois in 1983, releasing their first 7” the following year. At first, their sound had a biting, synth-driven edge to it, which eventually gave way to the growing ethereal / darkwave scene into the late 1980s. It’s remarkable that a 2014 re-release of a song from 1988 on the C'est la Mort label can still compete with releases of today. Is it the lack of progress in dark wave music or is it a ‘sign of the times’ in which all dark wave is hip again? Fact is that ‘Every Seventh Wave’ is a bitingly danceable song with lovely 80’s synths and an equally screaming electric guitar. A slightly distorted voice completes the picture. The two semi-ballads ‘The Sense Of An Ending’ and ‘Everything At Once’ sound too much alike, but no less stellar tracks, proves that The Arms Of Someone New still had a lot of quality in reserve. The re-release this single fits perfectly in the current period in which late 80’s ethereal /dark wave is more and more seen as an important inspiration.