As 2012 finally starts to hit its stride musically, there are suddenly lots of singles around providing previews of delights to come. After glibly proclaiming the old-fashioned single largely dead sometime earlier in my musings here, I'm suddenly finding lots of bands using just one or two tracks to tease in the weeks up to an album or EP release. What's interesting too is how bands who have perhaps an EP or two under their belts are marking these releases as their 'debut single'. For me this is all good - the idea of new music from an artist you love being something of an event, along with the anticipation it builds can only be a positive thing. So here, hot on the heels of my last round-up of single releases is another one. There is lots to listen to here, and even stuff to see linked below - and you get much less rambling from me in each case too, which can only be a bonus...

Lonely Tourist - I Live Where You Are

One of the highlights of 2011 was getting to hear Lonely Tourist for the first time, and realising with forehead-slapping dismay that while I'd been haring up and down the country seeking interesting new music, here was someone who had been busily hawking his unusual mix of modern-day folk tales, scratchy ballads and wryly observed lyrics not more than a few miles from home. With a self-released album recorded in Glasgow, and some high-profile support slots alongside the regular touring of Bristol pubs Paul Tierney ought to be a much bigger name by now. However, as a second album approaches perhaps things are about to turn his way?

Setting off at his now traditional breakneck pace, on "I Live Where You Are" Lonely Tourist invokes the spirit of Johnny Cash early on with a wonderfully twangy solo guitar. Recording with a full band on this first brand new material for a year, once again this bursts energetically with a tumble of rapid-fire lyrics and half-revealed dramas. The scratchy, skiffly acoustic guitar style fits surprisingly well into this setting and the whole thing cannons along at a satisfyingly breathless tilt. Touching on home with his description of a mood "as black as a winter Glasgow morning", Tierney brings the classic folk song theme of the itinerant hobo right up to date, rattling through a litany of couches, tenements and the vagaries of the rental housing market. Despite it's life-affirmingly singable refrain, this is all about uncertainty - and clinging on to the few solid things in life. Slowing to a pensive halt in the middle, the song builds to a note-bending, spirited wild-west style conclusion. If you're not singing along by now, then I despair of you.

There is an album coming along soon, and Lonely Tourist will undoubtedly bring his humbly simple live show to somewhere near you very soon. You really need to hear this, and whatever comes next...

Lonely Tourist - I Live Where You Are

Lonely Tourist has provided early access to "I Live Where You Are" via a pay-what-you-like deal at Bandcamp..

Where We Lay Our Heads - Bury You

It's hard to tell if Wull Swales is the luckiest or unluckiest musician in Glasgow just now. Having assembled the first incarnation of Where We Lay Our Heads in 2011 and begun to see some genuine success with an EP and some high-profile support slots, things came to an abrupt personnel-related halt at the end of last year. However, picked up and dusted off in the best tradition of impossible-to-repress Scottish bands, the new incarnation of WWLOH has pretty speedily worked it's way to this debut single. Now a four-piece centred on the writing talents of Swales, the band appear to have undergone something of a transformation from the primarily acoustic tracks I've heard previously, and "Bury You" is the first fruit of this new approach.

Opening quietly enough, focusing on Wull's engaging vocals which proudly sport their Caledonian heritage, things take a surprisingly rocking turn as a solid rhythm section kicks in and guitars chug. This is a slow-burning, pensive piece which showcases Alison Cochrane's violin, winding in and out of the song, marking out the rhythm in the verses and soaring dizzily into the choruses. Meanwhile the vocals strike a note just between desperation and sinister obsession, working things up to a crashing ending where a tangle of edgy guitar noise gives way to allow Wull the last word. A masterpiece of dynamics, there are satisfying noisy moments coupled with dramatic silences here, which all fit surprisingly well into the heartachingly desperate minor-key epic. There's no doubting a lightness of songwriting touch here on Swales part, and coupled with a band which seems to understand perfectly how to interpret these songs I've no doubt that this new incarnation of WWLOH has the potential to surpass their previous efforts. And given the speed with which they're operating just now I'm sure they're not going to be standing still, so it's probably wise to catch them in tiny venues while you can.

Where We Lay Our Heads - Bury You

Where We Lay Our Heads release "Bury You" on 19th March, via their Bandcamp and will be taking it on a short Scottish tour with LETTERS, kicking off at The Captains Rest in Glasgow on 22nd March and proceeding to Inverness, Thurso and Skye before heading through to Edinburgh's Wee Red Bar.

Quickbeam - Seven Hundred Birds

Quickbeam were one of a slew of bands I discovered a little while back via by virtue of the ever-surprising Glasgow PodcART just at the right momemnt. On a train trip through bright, wintry countryside this beautifully simple mix of alluring vocals and melancholy traditional instrumentation clicked into place and sent me scurrying off to find out what I could. Apparently named for one of the ponderous, wise old Ents in 'The Lord of The Rings', any sense of whimsy ends there. But the slowed, gentle approach this suggests is an appropriate one - Quickbeam's music is glacial and graceful as much as it is dark and mysterious.

Previewed by a rather special video being promoted with unashamed excitement by Glasgow's emerging Comets and Cartwheels project, "Seven Hundred Birds" is the first single as such from Quickbeam despite a couple of collections of demos which have circulated among those deeply smitten by the band for a while. A plangent bass drum beats the rhythm while a harmonium moans amid spirals of wonderously mournful violin courtesy of recent new member Nichola Kerr. Monika Gromek's vocals are sparing, giving the music room to breathe - but when she sings in her wonderfully understated and gentle way, the atmosphere deepens and the tone darkens. The production and recording of "Seven Hundred Birds" is a triumph too - every gasp from the harmonium captured, silences and spaces preserved to provide a sense of depth and distance - like you're hearing something ancient and reverent. There is a line here where Gromek sings of "a painting that's escaped the frame" - and perhaps that is the best description for Quickbeam? A moment of beauty, briefly and gloriously animated.

Quickbeam - Seven Hundred Birds

You can see the video for "Seven Hundred Birds" here on Vimeo. The single is released via Comets and Cartwheels on 9th April. You can also find the recent teaser "Tide" for download at Bandcamp.

This is by my reckoning, the one hundredth post on Songs Heard on Fast Trains. I still sometimes wonder if I'm not completely barking up the wrong tree here, scribbling away about music I love, and somewhat randomly hitting and missing releases depending on how the blog fits in with real life. Still, it keeps me busy and it organises my thoughts - two incredibly important things just now, so it's likely you're stuck with me for a little longer. It also seems fitting that this landmark posting should go to The Douglas Firs - a band I've not written about before, but which has lingered in the background of my listening for sometime. Last year's "Happy As a Windless Flag" slipped by unremarked here, really only because of my own bad time-management - but had it made these pages i'd have written about dark, sometimes impenetrable and confusing music which is oddly, almost perversely addictive. This EP, while essentially a collection of field recordings and fragments recorded since the album, continues in that curiously compelling vein - and at the same time documents the metamorphosis of The Douglas Firs from one-man bedroom recording project to a full live band.

Available as a download, or a austerely packaged cassette or CD, this EP gives away few secrets from the outside. Even my normally astute mail thief neighbours failed to steal this one which perhaps hints at just how oblique and anonymous the release is. Beginning with "30.11.10", an echoing drone of background noises and feedback which surrounds a distant bass melody, it's clear that this isn't going to present lots of hit pop tunes. "What Remains" continues in a similar musical vein, but adds Neil Insh's plaintive, high vocals along with cascades of guitar and washes of percussion. I'm struck here, as on the debut album, that what sets The Douglas Firs apart from most other acts is that events in the background of songs are often far more important that the immediate foreground. Despite being quite noisy and fairly sonically challenging in places, this is never in your face - never overblown. The skill in building these cinematic scenes becomes increasingly apparent on "Ghost Wardrobe" which takes a simple bass guitar and violin coupling, and turns it into a sinister but beautiful sheen, which has an oddly perfect fit with the theme of spectral bedroom furnishings!

On "Something There" we're faced with a curious chorus of voices, sometimes sweetly harmonic and sometimes insistent and imploring - but always over a weird, industrial background of wind and traffic. It's unsettling and confusing - is this the sound of the Highlands where The Douglas Firs began their journey, or the urban edgelands of Edinburgh? In either case, there is a journey at the heart of this song - a strategy which always appeals to me. There are more conventional songs here too, and "Frameworks" is a example in its gentle acoustic interlude. Possibly the most upbeat composition here and driven by an undertow of bass guitar, Insh uses his high voice to struggle with structures and forms here - vocally and lyrically. Meanwhile "Church Hill" centres on a wavering, uncertain vocal and spartan piano notes which cluster around an echoing drumbeat. Like most of the vocal pieces here the mood is reflective and distant, with an obscure and pervasive sense of melancholy. Despite the simplicity of the instrumentation, it's a surprisingly warm and engaging piece. The droning opening of "The Dream, September" mocks the 'pipes and shortbread tin' stereotypes which scupper Scottish music all too often in the eyes of the world outside. This glitchy, atmospheric shimmer slips from channel to channel in the headphones, providing an interlude before we're transported once again via "South-Folk in Cold Country". This has more than a hint of the sounds of the early New Zealand DIY scene in its sparse instrumentation, military drums and stentorian vocals. There are familiar hints of impending discomfort with the troubled observation that "the indication that all is not fine". Taking advantage of the expanded line-up of the band, distant brass and piano accompaniment add depth and somehow this starts to pull together and make sense of the widely varied sounds which have preceded it.

The pieces which make up this release, whilst not designed to belong together in any sense, have conspired to become a whole which is sometimes shadowy and indistinct, but at others incredibly direct and accessible. The simple recording technology and experimental nature of "ep1" don't always make for easy or comfortable listening, but they document the processes of a band developing and changing, providing some beautiful sound pictures along the way. If the developments here are the future of The Douglas Firs it's going to be a very interesting one to watch unfolding. This is the soundtrack to a movie which will never be made...don't let it become a lost gem.

The Douglas Firs - Frameworks

This release is available from 5th March as a simply packaged CD or Cassette, along with a digital download from Armellodie Records. Proceeds from this release contribute to the recording and release of the band's forthcoming second album. You can read more about The Douglas Firs here.

There is an almost universal rule in planning trips around this early part of the year, which says at some point I'll end up in Cambridge. This is partly because it makes for a pleasantly long, circular journey when done right - using track I neglect at other times of the year. It's also because doing so means a bit of time in London, which is a rare pleasure amid other trips - though promises to be fairly commonplace in the coming few weeks. On the last couple of visits though, Cambridge has offered new things - the guided busway and the new Class 379s last time, and this time a chance to see the completed new platform in use after a rather quick and efficient build.

The day began with one of the textbook beginnings I've adopted in recent times - the early train to Bristol, catching up on news and social networking from the last few days, then breakfast at Bristol cursing Starbucks for the truculence around opening times. I was pleased to see that the phantom seat-stealer wasn't around today as I don't think I could have stomached a scramble for my booked pew this morning, so it was onto 1M21 to Birmingham, watching the sun slowly rise and listening to music. A cracking start to the day in fact, after a tricky few days at work. Had a bit longer than usual at Birmingham so I grabbed a coffee and watched the station coming to life. I never tire of busy stations, and there is something special about being relaxed and quiet while the crowds buzz around. Down to the platform for the 09:22 which was a little late arriving and performed a very swift turn-around, causing lots of silly seat reservation related frustration. Found a comfortable spot and settled in, noting that someone on the platform had already had a heavy day, as a drunk sprawled alongside the train with a couple of Network Rail staff trying to stop him wandering away until we'd left. Finally off, taking the familiar route through Nuneaton and Leicester before heading onto the rural section via Melton Mowbray. It had been a little while since I'd done this, and it was interesting to spot the changes as we headed south and east.

After noting a load of locos lined up at Peterborough and the customary one stabled at March, I settled in for the last bit of the journey. The unit was getting busy with daytrippers for Cambridge, and I was restless to stretch my legs. We soon arrived on the new island platform after a slow, lurching switch over to the left of the alignment. Cambridge has always had a curious one-platform with a middle crossover arrangement, with a couple of bays at each end for good measure, and this solution using a bit of the stabling yard had been talked about for years before finally getting built. Noted a few passengers looking bewildered and asking for Platform 8 though! I'd decided not to head into the busy city this time noting that the busway was still a building site at this end, and contented myself with a spot of lunch on the windy platform, awaiting the train to Kings Cross which was booked, apparently into Platform 0. Resisted temptation to board a shiny 379 for Liverpool Street once or twice.

In the event, the train didn't make it into Platform 0, instead bumbling over to No.3 on arrival. It was a pleasant journey down, made more amusing by how much my presence in First Class seemed to annoy the couple who arrived seconds before departure and glared at me for being present. They were visibly upset when the ticket check failed to see me thrown out of the train too. The run down the southern end of the East Coast Main Line isn't one I do often, and for that reason it's always an interesting one - certainly in comparison to the northern sections which I see more of! At Kings Cross, I wandered into the walkway through the new ticket hall. The sweep of the building was visible, and the large open space was pretty impressive. With the main trainshed roof cleaned and the concourse opened out, there is a light airy feel to the whole station, and this new section promised to change the station into a nicer spot to hang around. I do miss the cafe in the corner where I ended up eating an obscenely big breakfast after the sleeper one morning though! Outside the station I found myself wandering into the area behind the station which was buried behind hoardings. The 'small print' on these reminded you that you should use this private area responsibly, and the moment a down-on-his-luck type stumbled into view, a couple of skinny security goons in ill-fitting blue caps scurried out of nowhere to escort him back to the road. After making a couple of 'phonecalls, I quickly headed back to civilisation and made for refuge on a bus.

Finding myself heading down Farringdon Road, I decided to hop off south of the river and have a look at Blackfriars Station, now spanning the Thames, covering the full length of the bridge - the first London station to do so. The Thames Path was busy, a jazz band pelting out tunes under Blackfriars Bridge, and a stream of people enjoying what had become an unseasonably warm, sunny afternoon. I descended the stairs onto the shingle shoreline, littered with shells and debris. There were a surprising number of folks strolling along the waters edge, the ferries and pleasure boats sending waves against the stones. Took some pictures of the city under the piers of the bridge, before heading back to the path and struggling against the crowd to Tate Modern, then over the busy Millennium Bridge to St.Pauls. Instinctively hopped on a bus again - a No.26 which took me through the city and onwards towards Shoreditch and eventually to South Hackney. I bailed just before it turned East for the Wick, electing to wander over to London Fields station for a run back into Liverpool Street. It was now very warm and sunny, and I was enjoying just being out and about in London for the first time in a while.

From Liverpool Street, it was time to start heading back - albeit a little early. In the event this was a good thing, as after picking up the 205 bus on Houndsditch due to the Crossrail works and getting delayed heavily in the diversion along Beech Street to Old Street, the route was curtailed to terminate at Marylebone. Weighed up my options, bailing at Great Portland Street for the short tube trip to Paddington and a pleasant coffee before heading home on the usual train. Today was a varied and rather busy one - and probably not quite what I'd had in mind when I set out. All the best ones end up like that somehow!

French Wives - Younger

A little before I began writing this blog, and when I'd just begun to rediscover the excitement and confusion of the unsigned music scene, I stumbled across French Wives totally by accident. In a world where unsigned had previously meant wading through endless pub-rock demos and badly written press releases, this was simply stunning, and that song - "Halloween" as it happens - still stops me in my tracks when it pops up on random play. I remember naively bumbling around and finding the single on iTunes - and in the process assuming I was dealing with an established act which had passed me by, rather than the first single from a relatively new band. It's been a long road to a debut album for French Wives, but one that has produced a steady stream of closet pop classics and moments of understated brilliance, and "Younger" is the latest step towards that Electric Honey Records debut which is due later in the year.

What French Wives manage better almost than any band operating in this area just now, is the sense of event and spectacle. Building songs into layered, complex, life-affirming swells without turning them into those overblown 'anthems' destined for Masterchef vote-offs isn't easy. Here it's achieved by centring the track on one of those nagging, epic guitar lines which lifts your heart instantly and just keeps growing as the song develops. Coupled to the insistent winding violins and vocal harmonies which support Stuart Dougan's distinctive croon, "Younger" becomes a hymn to ageing and regret which belies the relative youth of the band. Things build up to the simple but stark declaration that "I wish I had found my marker/I wish I had started younger" before the track spirals off into a crescendo of defiance and determination. The album isn't far away now, and will represent just the marker French Wives are seeking - and it will represent the culmination of a whole lot of effort, frustration and persistence. It's no accident perhaps then, that these themes come to the fore here. I'm fairly certain that French Wives are going to be a far more widely known name by the next time I'm wittering about them here.

French Wives - Younger

You can get your hands on "Younger" from Bandcamp as a free download.

Blue Sky Archives - Triple A-Side EP

I've found it hard to pin down Blue Sky Archives - not in the musical sense, as I've been captivated since my first listen - but they always seem to play the day after I leave town or release records at times when I'm up to my ears in work stuff or neglecting this blog for other reasons. So, its a huge privilege to finally get to write about this quietly productive band who have now churned out three beautifully finished EPs of sharp-edged, bittersweet pop music over the last year or so. Blue Sky Archives have always benefited from having several vocalists in their ranks, but perhaps for the first time here Lauren Mayberry's beautifully sweet, folk-tinged but surprisingly robust voice leads all three tracks. However, there is something of a development here since last years "Plural EP" in the use of more varied instrumentation and harmonies which lend the whole record a depth and luxuriousness. Kicking off with solid beats and scratchy guitars, "Bitches" is a shimmering slice of dreamy jangle pop, with Mayberry coming across like a far less twee Harriet Wheeler at first listen. Meanwhile, the music fails entirely to conform to the shambling stereotype of indie-pop, with some incredibly precise guitar work which builds into a punchy ending.

"Cosplay The Hard Way" emerged as an early taster for this EP, and despite it's gentle and delicate opening passages the lyric contains more than a hint of menace and implications of troubled sexual politics which, taken alongside the innocence and sweetness of the music become genuinely uncomfortable. Mid way through the song takes a dramatic flip, with a serrated guitar line entering - before a beautifully constructed cascade of vocal harmonies and strings sees things through to the end. The ending is unresolved - and there is a sense that whatever dark happenings the song hints at are bound to be repeated. This is wonderfully crafted, detailed pop music used to explore the corners of your mind where perhaps you'd least expect to find it heading. In that sense, it's just about perfect. Finally "Back In A Liquid Minute" showcases some wonderfully slinky, undulating bass playing as an incongruously funky counterpoint to crunchy guitar riffs and soaring choruses. Once again the lyrics seem to tackle personal boundaries and themes of threat and submission when Lauren sings "my body is your battleground".

In the space of around ten minutes of music, Blue Sky Archives manage to cover an emotional and musical range which seems almost impossible. Crossing more genre-boundaries than it might at first appear, their tactic of post-rock colliding with folk-rock in three-minute pop songs sounds implausible and contrived on paper, but it works insanely well in practice. This is a concise, compelling bunch of songs which hint at future greatness for this hardworking bunch. I just hope I get to be in the same place as them soon.

Blue Sky Archives - Cosplay The Hard Way

The "Triple A-Side EP" is available as a digital download from Bandcamp, or here as a CD.