The Alialujah Choir
9081 Santa Monica Blvd
Los Angeles, CA, 90069
This event is all ages
VII is the seventh record from Blitzen Trapper and their first release for Vagrant Records. Its twelve tracks teem with vivid tales of longing, flight, desperation and redemption, all set in a sonic landscape at once familiar, but also strange and new, like a dream. Without a doubt the culmination of all the group's best work, VII sounds a lot like America.
Blitzen Trapper was founded in Portland, Oregon in 2000 by a group of native Pacific Northwesterners, who played around town endlessly to skeleton crowds and gave away an impressive stream of garage recordings on CDR for years. Then came the Blitzen Trapper record in 2003, and Field Rexx in 2005. But it wasn't until 2007's self-released Wild Mountain Nation made a big splash that they finally hit the road, setting the stage for Furr's release the following year. Powered by its title track and by the G-funk-inflected "Black River Killer" that record became an unlikely hit and the group suddenly found itself on network television and in glossy magazines and astride colossal festival stages. So they released more music, toured the Western world incessantly, got to work with the likes of Wilco, Stephen Malkmus, Guided By Voices and Belle & Sebastian, and slowly became the band they'd always dreamed they would be. Blitzen Trapper are frontman and songwriter Eric Earley, Marty Marquis, Brian Adrian Koch, Michael Van Pelt and Erik Menteer.
VII opens with "Feel The Chill," a southern adventure complete with a woman in her underwear, deer hunting, and of course drowning at the local bar. Earley takes us down a crooked bend so dark and gloomy you can smell the heat and feel the humidity oppress you. "Each song starts from a small place, a headwater like remembrance and then widens into a song. For instance, that old wreck of a shack buried in evergreen and murky darkness at the bend in the road up on Jackson Hill where we used to drink, never failed to give me a chill driving by in the old Impala for it's implacable mystery," Earley notes.
Tracks like "Thirsty Man" speak of love in a Dylan-esque fashion where Earley reveals "love like rain falls in the wasteland and slips thru the fingers – for love is a thing that cannot be held, only felt and released." "Drive On Up" is a soulful, almost bluesy rendition of small town tales of quirkiness. "It seems you're always driving on up to something," Earley amuses, "into the mountains to see a girlfriend above the reservoir where she lives in a single wide with her mom and a cougar stalks us at fifty yards through the brush, she says to bang sticks but never look it in the eye."
VII moves effortlessly from track to track, allowing Earley to paint the colorful pictures that play in our head while singing along. "...There are those songs I keep writing over and over again, Ever Loved Once with all its regrets and tragic lost love, Don't be a Stranger its hopeful cousin but they all still point to the same worn out place in the heart of old E. Earley. And hey, we all have that place, that worn spot on the heart like the chew canister circle on the back pocket of blue jeans, or that one shred in the green felt of the table where you ground the stick in too hard... May these songs minister in ways mysterious and eternal, or at least maybe make you shake a hip."
The Alialujah Choir
"It began with a song. The roots of Portland's Alialujah Choir go back to Adam Selzer and Adam Shearer's collaboration on an all-Portland charity compilation, (D)early Departed. It seemed a natural choice to pair the Adams, the former known for his work as a producer at Type Foundry studios and as part of the band Norfolk & Western; the latter the affable and increasingly visible frontman of the local band Weinland. "A House, A Home" was the result — a song that builds a fictionalized doomed romance into the real-life historical backdrop of Dr. James Hawthorne's psychiatric hospital (and makes for a stunning video, which opbmusic recently premiered).
Selzer and Shearer felt like they were on to something in the recording's aftermath, and a late-night text message or two later, the Alialujah Choir was born, with the piano and vocals of Alia Farah (a sometime member of Weinland) rounding out the trio. They set about establishing what might be called rules of creative conduct for the project — the first being that it remain enjoyable, the second being that it's all about the voices. You'll notice the sparse nature of the arrangements, which purposely throw the trio's harmonies into the spotlight. It's a rare moment on the record when you'll hear a lone voice singing."