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Archive for the ‘Ethel Meserve’ Category

Calba’s Last

Calba’s last – Ethel Meserve

Hey this is the same song as yesterday! On the mystery i like to keep Ethel Meserve at again, this song is from the great (Don’t Forget To) Breathe compilation, and on a compilation with a whole host of bands no one should have heard of (though i guess not to the depths of obscurity a lot of emo compilations are) they are still the one most enigmatic to me. Or at least of those i care about. Compilations. It is the perfect place to have this song, as both its depth and peak.

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Calba’s Last

Calba’s last – Ethel Meserve

Like Lung Leg, i both love yet know precious little about Ethel Meserve. Though for me in their case, lack of knowing serves their music more. Some enigmatic band comprised of who knows who, from who knows where, and band for who knows what reason, playing beautiful music i really should have never been let known existed. I’m sure all that information is readily available, but the amount i know now, the amount i’ve always known, couldn’t be more perfect for the music they play. I once saw a live video of them, and as well as giving them faces it also gave them holding hollowbody semi-acoustic guitars. I really wish i hadn’t seen that. Just left it a mystery. Something i only ever seem to listen to alone in my bedroom on cold nights.

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East Coker

East Coker – Ethel Meserve

I always pictured the cello bookending this song as notes being played throughout by someone in a house next door to the Ethel Meserve as they wrote or recorded this song; this song constructed entirely around that cellist going about their scales and other practise. I also always pictured the cellist as some pretty girl, home, private or other schooled, unearthed from every convention of life the band knows. An object of some boundless fascination, set apart at an insurmountable distance, this song an effort to bridge that distance – to communicate; to declare a life, an existence, an awareness. I have a cellist living next door to me now. Our response, when the noise of band practise bursts from my house, is nowhere near as gentle or connective as Ethel Meserve’s.

animals w/ the toll keeper

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