marble stature

I think it was Steven Tyler who shreiked it: back in the saddle again. Although I have a busy weekend of tying up loose ends, cleaning out my studio and documenting my work, after what turned out to be a little over 100 hours of work in the past five days, my semester has come to an end.

Markku Peltola Buster Keatonin Ratsutilalla (Ektro, 2003)

I went into this one completely blind; I had no idea what this would sound like, but the Buster Keaton reference (i think it translates to: "in the ranch of...") made me think of watching 'College' and 'The General' as a kid with my dad AND this is the time of the year to get sentimental over a good nog, so I guess that's a-ok. Buster Keatonin Ratsutilalla opens, oddly enough with some cheesy cheddar guitar shredding, but then bounces out of metal box and with the help of some om'em bongos, spritely acoustic guitar and a violin melody that screams ciné-mentality but thankfully the "it" indies have yet to tap Finnish sap for obscure additions to their shitty soundtracks (...Zack Braff ...Wes 'Small Change' Anderson ...Sofia Coppola ...sexy, yes, but terrible nonetheless). Oddly enough, bandleader Markku Peltola has made a name for himself in Lappywood or whatever, starring in the only movie from Finland that I have ever heard of, a movie by Aki Kaurismaki that if I remember correctly came out while I was still a dorm-boy (so about five or six years ago) called 'The Man Without a Past.' I don't know a whole lot about the background of this release (or Peltola for that matter), but a few songs into this album I couldn't help but to think of the phrase Swedish Reggae, which was the proposed title for that self-titled Steve Malkmus album. It's a good concept though, and while I don't think it would be appropriate for Malkmus, it really does nail what Peltola and his players conjure up from some wintry jamming. There is a looseness to Buster Keatonin Ratsutilalla that is almost spongelike; ontologically simple, but rich in texture and rather sophisticated upon examination, especially the interplay between that violin and the guitarist, one of whom I would assume to be Peltola. While this ere oddity may not be earth-shattering, it is admirably unassuming, strangely familiar- maybe even sentimental music that I like to think of less like "another jewel on the shelf" but rather like a stack of old pictures from a fun party that you that you threw.