New music: Charlotte Day Wilson, Sebastian Bach, Modney, Dani Howard

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This article was published 17/05/2024 (868 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

SOUL

Charlotte Day Wilson

Cyan Blue (XL Recordings)

There’s an ephemeral quality to the understated R&B and soul of Toronto singer-songwriter Charlotte Day Wilson’s second album Cyan Blue, a breezy feel to the way in which her smooth alto vocals blend with the hazy piano, ambient electronics, atmospheric synths, loping bass, layered harmonies and playful interludes of the record’s 13 tracks.

It functions perfectly well as low-key background music for reading, writing or studying, but if listeners take the time to dig into and parse the lyrics of these songs, they’ll find the 31-year-old in a reflective, stock-taking mood.

In interviews, Wilson has attributed the album’s mood and feel to her decision to work with a co-producer Jack Rochon, a Toronto musician and songwriter who has worked with the likes of H.E.R., Daniel Caesar and Beyoncé. Ceding total control and allowing herself to be pushed has resulted in music that Wilson said feels both more playful and more freeing.

That much is evident in the subject matter of these tunes. At times on Cyan Blue, Wilson expresses her artistic and emotional journey to becoming a confident queer artist — the beautiful title track, for example, is an ode to her closeted teen self — but she’s also assured enough to give voice to her hopes for the future, as on New Day, a delicate piano ballad about her longing for a child.

While Dovetail heralds the perfect fit of her current love, Wilson is also aware of the growth that comes from her past relationships, as in I Don’t Love You, a mournful but somehow celebratory, piano-based breakup song in which she realizes “It’s more peaceful, being heartbroken, than crying every night for you.”

She’s also aware of life’s inherent contradictions and dualities — Cyan Blue’s centrepiece is the relatively jaunty Canopy, on which Wilson castigates a friend/lover for their hateful ways, yet realizes she’s still drawn to them. Fascinating stuff. ★★★★ out of five

Stream: New Day; Canopy; I Don’t Love You.

— John Kendle

ROCK

Sebastian Bach

Child Within the Man (Reigning Phoenix)

Sebastian Bach’s latest solo album, Child Within the Man, is a reminder that every once in a while, a man and a moment meet.

This is that time for Bach and his former band Skid Row. The vintage-sounding album has everything that made Bach a force and offers a tantalizing glimpse into what he could bring to a reunited Skid Row.

Together, Bach and Skid Row were fixtures of hard-rock radio in the late ’80s and early ’90s with songs such as Youth Gone Wild and 18 And Life. But since parting ways in 1996, neither has had anything close to the level of success they had together.

The lead singer job in Skid Row is currently vacant, so the timing of Bach’s solo album could not be better. It shows a fierce performer in prime fighting form and it’s not hard to picture the opening track Everybody Bleeds being belted out at a packed stadium by a reunited Skid Row.

His vocals remain sharp and his songwriting talents as cunning as ever. Bach has new, creative ammunition that he could bring to a Skid Row reunion on tracks such as Crucify Me and Hard Darkness. They’re the sort of hard, tightly played rockers at which the band excelled, signs of what once was and could be again.

Bach calls in favours from Mötley Crüe guitarist John 5 on Freedom and guitar virtuoso Orianthi on Future of Youth. Billy Idol guitarist Steve Stevens adds a particularly combustible solo on F.U.

And it all ends with an honest-to-Bach, ’80s-esque hair metal power ballad, To Live Again, proving that this guy remembers where he came from and where his bread is buttered. ★★★★ out of five

Stream: Everybody Bleeds, F.U.

— Wayne Parry, The Associated Press

JAZZ

Modney

Ascending Primes (Pyroclastic)

Violinist Modney (the artist formerly known as Josh Modney) has a challenging new double-disc release. In many ways it is both challenging to hear and challenging to describe. An overview is that it is a sometimes astonishing blend of jazz, classical and new age music delivered in a package that moves from lush quiet melody to near cacophony at will. A friend of mine would use “skronk” to describe some of it.

Personnel are from several genres. The jazz musicians include saxophonist Anna Webber, trumpeter Nate Wooley, cornetist Ben LaMar Gay, pianist Cory Smythe, electronic musicians Charmaine Lee and Sam Plutz and drummer Kate Gentile, along with several horn players and seven string players.

The concept behind the album title is also complex. The music proceeds through groups of musicians that reflect the ascending prime numbers: 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, etc.

The music is truly amazing. There are flurries of sound at times that border on painful, only to be followed by moments of lush beauty with quiet echoing silences. From the advantage of multiple listens I can say there is order, striking invention and incredible musicianship.

The longest track at 25 minutes is Everything Around It Moves. It basically summarizes the shifting moods of other tracks, moving almost relentlessly from mood to mood, leaving listeners to catch up if they can. It is powerful, adventurous and has real rewards if one can just give over to it and not try to wait for it to sound like familiar material. It simply doesn’t.

The challenge I mentioned in describing this album is obvious if you made it here. This is complex, wonderfully constructed music that is (trust me) subtly engaging. Lock up preconceptions and have a go. ★★★★ out of five

Stream: Everything Around It Moves; Lynx

— Keith Black

CLASSICAL

Dani Howard: Orchestral Works

Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra (Rubicon)

This recent release features the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra (led by Michael Seal and Pablo Urbina) performing four works by British composer Dani Howard, a rising star in the international music community known for her vibrant, eclectic works.

There are many treats on this album. The first is Argentum, a short piece written in 2017 that immediately displays Howard’s arresting compositional voice.

Ellipsis is another, with the nearly 11-minute piece — described as a “time lapse of London’s music culture of the last 75 years” — teeming with layers of sonorous textures interwoven into a lush tapestry of sound.

By contrast, Coalescence pulses forward as it explores the relationship between humanity and nature, its well-crafted score sensitively brought to life by the players — as it is with Arches, originally commissioned to commemorate the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare’s death.

However, the album’s cornerstone is the Trombone Concerto (2021), its three evocative movements serving as a vehicle for soloist Peter Moore’s expressive artistry. The first section, Realisation, bristles with taut energy, with Moore’s musical lines alternating between bursts of rhythmic motifs and sweeping, lyrical phrases. He further shows off his instrument’s innately poetic sensibility in the more reflective slow movement, Rumination, with its thematic material spanning the entire range of Moore’s instrument.

Further pyrotechnics are unleashed during the finale, Illumination, which features the soloist’s horn leaping through its runs while soaring over the orchestra as it moves towards a triumphant close. ★★★★ out of five

Stream: Ellipsis; Trombone Concerto; Illumination

— Holly Harris