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CP's Byron Bay Album Launch Christian Pyle, Nothing Left to Burn Christian Pyles’ (CP) new solo album has been an arduous journey. The culmination of 5 years of borrowed time squeezed in between making albums for countless artists, including CP’s own bands Acre and Ghost Mountain, and notably the swan song masterpiece ‘A Great Day For A Migraine’ by Jesse Younan. Then, enduring his father’s passing and his own nasty bout of cancer, all the while paying the bills, maintaining his property and caring for his family. When that duty had been carried out, sometime in the wee hours, the important harvest arrived. Nothing Left To Burn, all songs, written, performed and recorded by CP himself (he plays every instrument on it). Like other astounding ‘artists’ or ‘freaks’ like say; Jason Faulkner, J Mascis, (Stevie Wonder) who have at times painted the whole picture themselves, the result is an emotionally cohesive, deeper and richer experience than your average studio release. Music is a language and Pyle has his own distinct dialect. In one sitting you will meet all his aspects up close and brutal, delivered intelligently and melodically with gravelly alt rock swagger. The opener ‘Trees and Stone’ and the following two tracks ‘Wait Son’ and ‘Get Used To It’, seemingly in a similar groove, are reminiscent of the mood of Elliot Smith... (Badly Drawn Boy comes to mind). ‘Ray of Your Sunshine’ marks the ascent to the edge of the water hole as you are lead into the depths of the album. The achingly no fuss remembrance of growing up in 'School Without Dogs' will haunt you with it’s sweet melancholy. From there the ride becomes warped, abstract and just a bit scary. Nothing Left To Burn will get you. You’ll find yourself humming melodies and busting out lyrical phrases, not sure of where they came from. Living up in the hills behind Byron Bay has definitely made this artist a unique proposition. Now if he can find time for some sleep Christian Pyle may have something going for him with this brilliant new solo release. Christian Pyle, Nothing Left To Burn by Mick Daley Christian Pyle is an anomaly in the modern world. Eschewing glamour, fads and celebrity he’s pioneered all three in his own inimitable style as founding member of Acre, a Brisbane band that nearly tipped over into the hyperstream—and would surely have if not for Pyle’s refusal to kowtow to the flippant demands of passing fame. Instead he chose to live his own life and play his own music, producing a wide range of music for other acts in between. His use of spastic rhythms and counter-melodies, ghostly voices and antiquated instrumentation (ranging from toy pianos to homemade theremins) is local legend. Sometimes these quirks threaten to place him in the dadaist realms of John Cale, Sonic Youth or even Kraftwerk, but his love of a simple melody and primal pop structure are always underpinned by the guitar foundations that keep him entrenched in rock’n’roll. Those familiar with his work – Ghost Mountain, the Re-mains, Jesse Younan et al – will recognise the subtle but layered vocals and reverbs, the obsessive, warped melodies, the cunning arrangements that recycle simple progressions and beats into seemingly complex symphonies. In fact some of the songs carry the epic melodic momentum of Pink Floyd or Radiohead, a statement he’d probably take issue with. In his latest solo album Nothing Left to Burn he’s crafted a gentle but deceptively savage record that hacks and stabs at several of his private bete noires while maintaining an even lope, like an experienced lantana cutter excising his quarry with efficient, but deadly swipes of the brush-hook. CP plays all the instruments, displaying virtuoso talents that are almost impossible to repeat live. There is nothing predictable here. From the enigmatic ‘Trees and Stone’ to the perfect pop song ‘Ray of Your Sunshine’, you can not put this album in any kind of box. The urgent restlessness of ‘Wait Son’—a warning to his eager, impatient progeny—is deeply haunting: ‘Wait son don’t you understand, our road’s been walked upon since time began. We’re just a borrowed coat tryin’ to fit a stranger’s shoulders, we’re just the branches of a family…’ Not for committed dance-obsessives or those prone to lyric-triggered depressions, ‘Nothing Left To Burn’ demands a certain amount of work from the listener. Lyrically caustic and sonically exquisite, it’s an artistic and oddly elegant exercise that rewards diligent engagement—and then just try and get the songs out of your head.  Mick Daley – www.mickdaley.com |
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