KT Tunstall: Invisible Empire // Crescent Moon auf CD
Invisible Empire // Crescent Moon
CD
CD (Compact Disc)
Herkömmliche CD, die mit allen CD-Playern und Computerlaufwerken, aber auch mit den meisten SACD- oder Multiplayern abspielbar ist.
Derzeit nicht erhältlich.
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- Label:
- Virgin
- Aufnahmejahr ca.:
- 2013
- UPC/EAN:
- 5099992844728
- Erscheinungstermin:
- 6.6.2013
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*** Digisleeve
Der Albumtitel ist zweigeteilt, weil KT Tunstall mit ihrem neuen Studioalbum zweierlei gelingt: Einerseits kehrt sie zu ihren Wurzeln zurück, weil die neuen Songs ähnlich schlicht und schnörkellos anmuten wie ihre allerersten Aufnahmen; und doch hat sie ihren Sound mit all seinen aufrichtigen Country-, Pop- und Folk-Anklängen abermals weiterentwickelt und weiter verfeinert. Was am
wichtigsten ist: Sie selbst beschreibt das Album, das sie zu Gast in Tucson / Arizona mit Alternative-Country-Star Howe Gelb (Giant Sand) aufgenommen hat, als eine Sammlung von „Songs, die mir allesamt aus der Seele sprechen.“
“So this album is about singing,” she states, and readers would here be directed towards the graceful, gently orchestral triumph that is the song Crescent Moon as evidence of Tunstall’s sublime on-mic skills, “and it’s about my voice. That was what I wanted to be the centrepiece of the album, which I’d not done before.”
Then, the third in a triptych of turning-point hook-ups. Robyn Hitchcock asked Tunstall to join a touring show called The Floating Palace. It was Hitchcock, Tunstall, Martin and Eliza Carthy, Krystle Warren and Howe Gelb. “Completely opposing musicians!” she smiles, “but we all played as each other’s band, and it was great.”
She and Gelb, whom she’d never met before, hit it off, “mostly over a bottle of whiskey at the Glasgow gig, actually. And he’s just such good fun. He’s mischievous and he’s a maverick and he’s got a great bad attitude towards convention and is musically very exciting.” It was a union of distant but, as it transpired, confluent minds. “It was like aliens from different planets meeting each other for the first time.”
Gelb invited Tunstall to record in his favourite studio in Tucson, Wavelab. Last February she travelled to Arizona for a two-week session. She laid down sketches for eight songs, based on “some pretty dumb guitar patterns and incredibly simple chord progressions”.
How You Kill Me emerged that spring, a woozy, hypnotic blues. “Lifting me up to those branches, letting me look on the world…” sings Tunstall, leaning in close to the mic. “Just as I sing like a bird, you, you shoot me down for your fun…”
“It’s about basically knowing your potential – knowing you’re great – but not being able to see it through because of your own insecurities and not feeling a support system around you."
Made Of Glass was another song from that period. As the title telegraphs, it’s a song about the fragility of life. “That was written way before my dad died,” she says of a composition about a friend who suddenly died from pancreatic cancer aged only 34. Just before he died he’d gifted her a cut-glass vase. The irony hit home afterwards. “I was like, you absolute bastard!” she laughs. “The one thing I’ve got that you’ve given me is the most breakable thing I own.”
Months later, before the loss of her dad, she would write Carried, a drifting, chamber piece that seems to bottle the desert atmospherics. It’s about being transported over the threshold of life, inspired by her fathers' physical struggle, but soon to be unusual in it's clairvoyant nature.
Feel It All, the album’s first single, is absolute torch-song and twang, and appears on the album in two versions; the original album version, with PJ Harvey collaborator John Parish on drumming duty and recorded at his Bristol studio and the ‘band jam’ version which was recorded live in Tucson. “It’s probably the most personal song for me on the album,” she says of a song that sits alongside Crescent Moon and rippling piano-ballad Yellow Flower as showcasing Tunstall’s best ever vocals, rich and intimate. “I started that just before dad died and I finished it just after my split. So it was absolutely birthed out of the intensity of those two things happening. It was real medicine for me, that song.
She offers listeners a tonic, too, on the closing No Better Shoulder, a surging acoustic number that builds and builds to a belting, squealing, country-psych rocker that should catalyse a cathartic outburst of emotion when Tunstall starts touring her new, split-but-united album later this spring.
“After the mood of the record I really wanted something that took you out at the end, and woke you up from this spell, if you like. Because I found that anything uptempo I was trying to fit into the tracklisting burst the bubble. And I wanted to stay within that. So No Better Shoulder is the way out at the end.”
For sure, Invisible Empire//Crescent Moon is an album coloured by melancholy. But it’s not a grief album, she insists, and nor is it a break-up album. Not one of the songs on the second half directly references her divorce. Still, it is, as she says, an album in which she self-administers open-heart surgery. “Invisible Empire is probably the most relevant in terms of what was going to happen,” she says of the album opener, a song that wheezes into life before settling into an unsettling jaunty rhythm. “In that song I think there was a subconscious realisation that things weren't as they should be – my subconscious was ahead of me, and I was catching up.”
The song, she admits with a laugh, could be her in a nutshell: a cloud on the horizon but a skip in her step.
“A big thing about the album for me,” concludes KT Tunstall, who – prior to a summer run of festival band shows – will be touring solo, unaccompanied, “is that I don’t care if it’s sad. I want it to be an emotional experience. But I don’t actually think it is a sad album. Melancholic is probably quite a good description of it. But it really is me now coming from a place where I don’t feel the need to please anybody but myself. I always liked to think that’s where I was before – but I don’t think I was."
(kttunstall. com)
Product Information
“So this album is about singing,” she states, and readers would here be directed towards the graceful, gently orchestral triumph that is the song Crescent Moon as evidence of Tunstall’s sublime on-mic skills, “and it’s about my voice. That was what I wanted to be the centrepiece of the album, which I’d not done before.”
Then, the third in a triptych of turning-point hook-ups. Robyn Hitchcock asked Tunstall to join a touring show called The Floating Palace. It was Hitchcock, Tunstall, Martin and Eliza Carthy, Krystle Warren and Howe Gelb. “Completely opposing musicians!” she smiles, “but we all played as each other’s band, and it was great.”
She and Gelb, whom she’d never met before, hit it off, “mostly over a bottle of whiskey at the Glasgow gig, actually. And he’s just such good fun. He’s mischievous and he’s a maverick and he’s got a great bad attitude towards convention and is musically very exciting.” It was a union of distant but, as it transpired, confluent minds. “It was like aliens from different planets meeting each other for the first time.”
Gelb invited Tunstall to record in his favourite studio in Tucson, Wavelab. Last February she travelled to Arizona for a two-week session. She laid down sketches for eight songs, based on “some pretty dumb guitar patterns and incredibly simple chord progressions”.
How You Kill Me emerged that spring, a woozy, hypnotic blues. “Lifting me up to those branches, letting me look on the world…” sings Tunstall, leaning in close to the mic. “Just as I sing like a bird, you, you shoot me down for your fun…”
“It’s about basically knowing your potential – knowing you’re great – but not being able to see it through because of your own insecurities and not feeling a support system around you."
Made Of Glass was another song from that period. As the title telegraphs, it’s a song about the fragility of life. “That was written way before my dad died,” she says of a composition about a friend who suddenly died from pancreatic cancer aged only 34. Just before he died he’d gifted her a cut-glass vase. The irony hit home afterwards. “I was like, you absolute bastard!” she laughs. “The one thing I’ve got that you’ve given me is the most breakable thing I own.”
Months later, before the loss of her dad, she would write Carried, a drifting, chamber piece that seems to bottle the desert atmospherics. It’s about being transported over the threshold of life, inspired by her fathers' physical struggle, but soon to be unusual in it's clairvoyant nature.
Feel It All, the album’s first single, is absolute torch-song and twang, and appears on the album in two versions; the original album version, with PJ Harvey collaborator John Parish on drumming duty and recorded at his Bristol studio and the ‘band jam’ version which was recorded live in Tucson. “It’s probably the most personal song for me on the album,” she says of a song that sits alongside Crescent Moon and rippling piano-ballad Yellow Flower as showcasing Tunstall’s best ever vocals, rich and intimate. “I started that just before dad died and I finished it just after my split. So it was absolutely birthed out of the intensity of those two things happening. It was real medicine for me, that song.
She offers listeners a tonic, too, on the closing No Better Shoulder, a surging acoustic number that builds and builds to a belting, squealing, country-psych rocker that should catalyse a cathartic outburst of emotion when Tunstall starts touring her new, split-but-united album later this spring.
“After the mood of the record I really wanted something that took you out at the end, and woke you up from this spell, if you like. Because I found that anything uptempo I was trying to fit into the tracklisting burst the bubble. And I wanted to stay within that. So No Better Shoulder is the way out at the end.”
For sure, Invisible Empire//Crescent Moon is an album coloured by melancholy. But it’s not a grief album, she insists, and nor is it a break-up album. Not one of the songs on the second half directly references her divorce. Still, it is, as she says, an album in which she self-administers open-heart surgery. “Invisible Empire is probably the most relevant in terms of what was going to happen,” she says of the album opener, a song that wheezes into life before settling into an unsettling jaunty rhythm. “In that song I think there was a subconscious realisation that things weren't as they should be – my subconscious was ahead of me, and I was catching up.”
The song, she admits with a laugh, could be her in a nutshell: a cloud on the horizon but a skip in her step.
“A big thing about the album for me,” concludes KT Tunstall, who – prior to a summer run of festival band shows – will be touring solo, unaccompanied, “is that I don’t care if it’s sad. I want it to be an emotional experience. But I don’t actually think it is a sad album. Melancholic is probably quite a good description of it. But it really is me now coming from a place where I don’t feel the need to please anybody but myself. I always liked to think that’s where I was before – but I don’t think I was."
(kttunstall. com)
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Tracklisting
Disk 1 von 1 (CD)
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1 Invisible empire
-
2 Made of glass
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3 How you kill me
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4 Carried
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5 Old man song
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6 Yellow flower
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7 Crescent moon
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8 Waiting on the heart
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9 Feel it all
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10 Chimes
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11 Honeydew
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12 No better shoulder
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13 Feel it all (Band Jam) (Bonus Track)