Lee Thomson

My musical life has been punctuated by special encounters with saxophonists. A deep dive into Steve Lacy’s music after his death resulted in formative projects, notably The Rent (Ambiances Magnétiques, 2010). My organisational talents made possible orchestral projects with Anthony Braxton (2007) and Roscoe Mitchell (2016) as well as a delightful Canadian tour by Evan Parker (2011). However, my daily work is animated especially by relationships with alto players in cities where I’ve resided: John Oswald and Karen Ng (Toronto) and Jean Derome and Yves Charuest (Montréal). Pal o’Alto is a homonymic nod to a tune by Lee Konitz, who died during the 2020 pandemic while this record was being produced. Konitz’s music has also affected me profoundly and, while a straightforward tribute is not really my purview, I like to imagine that his spirit lurked as I made this music with these four dear pals. — Scott Thomson

Look to the East, Look to the West, the new album by Camera Obscura, is a revelation. The Tracyanne Campbell-led outfit, reuniting with producer Jari Haapalainen (Let’s Get Out of This Country, My Maudlin Career), have crafted an album that simultaneously recalls why longtime fans have ferociously loved them for decades while also being their most sophisticated effort to date. It is also the most hard-fought album of Camera Obscura’s career. Following the 2015 passing of founding keyboardist and friend Carey Lander (to whom the penultimate track “Sugar Almond” is addressed), the band went into an extended hiatus.

In 2018, country music is still well and truly alive and kicking. We’re not talking about the alien world of mega festivals and musical compromise for the sake of commerce, we’re talking about the art of songwriting, the rootsy pull on heartstrings and mainlining of heartache and devotion through the songs and stories of musicians from across the wide Australian expanse. Take Me To Town lays its mission statement out with its title. It’s a collection of alternative country songs. 47 of them. They’re the kinds of songs you’ll hear in pubs, bars, cafes and bowling clubs on any day of the week. Whether there are five people and a dog in front of the artist or a raucous room, packed to the gunnels, hot and noisy; these musicians sing their stories and play their instruments with heartfelt conviction.

In 2018, country music is still well and truly alive and kicking. We’re not talking about the alien world of mega festivals and musical compromise for the sake of commerce, we’re talking about the art of songwriting, the rootsy pull on heartstrings and mainlining of heartache and devotion through the songs and stories of musicians from across the wide Australian expanse. Take Me To Town lays its mission statement out with its title. It’s a collection of alternative country songs. 47 of them. They’re the kinds of songs you’ll hear in pubs, bars, cafes and bowling clubs on any day of the week. Whether there are five people and a dog in front of the artist or a raucous room, packed to the gunnels, hot and noisy; these musicians sing their stories and play their instruments with heartfelt conviction.

In 2018, country music is still well and truly alive and kicking. We’re not talking about the alien world of mega festivals and musical compromise for the sake of commerce, we’re talking about the art of songwriting, the rootsy pull on heartstrings and mainlining of heartache and devotion through the songs and stories of musicians from across the wide Australian expanse. Take Me To Town lays its mission statement out with its title. It’s a collection of alternative country songs. 47 of them. They’re the kinds of songs you’ll hear in pubs, bars, cafes and bowling clubs on any day of the week. Whether there are five people and a dog in front of the artist or a raucous room, packed to the gunnels, hot and noisy; these musicians sing their stories and play their instruments with heartfelt conviction.