Holocene Music is honored to present the debut release from Portland, Oregon singer and songwriter Alela Diane. Hailing from the deep woods and winding rivers of Northern California Gold Rush town Nevada City, Alela grew up singing songs with her parents (both musicians), and performing in the school choir. During a stay in San Francisco in 2003, she began teaching herself guitar and writing her first songs, blending tense, trance-like arpeggios, with warm, thick vocals and meditative lyrics about family and nature.
Written in response to a loss of home and familiarity, The Pirate’s Gospel is a powerful document of personal reevaluation and renewal set against the backdrop of generations past and future, mothers and fathers, life, death, and birth. The songs were composed during a trip to Europe and recorded in her father’s studio in Nevada City. Originally available only in hand-stitched limited runs, this pressing marks the first time The Pirate’s Gospel has been made available outside of Alela’s immediate circle of friends and fans.
TRACKLIST:
01. My Tired Feet
02. The Rifle (mp3)
03. The Pirate’s Gospel
04. Foreign Tongue
05. Can You Blame The Sky?
06. Something’s Gone Awry
07. Pieces of String
08. Clickity Clack
09. Sister Self
10. Pigeon Song
11. Oh! Mama
PRESS QUOTES:
Hartley Goldstein, Other Music:
“I know we’re all supposed to be over freak folk by now. If anything, once a genre gets a whole three-page spread in the Sunday Times it might be time to jump ship. And hell, that article ran over a year ago. Indie labels seem to be doing aesthetic 360’s, signing everyone in sight with a beard and a bandana. Reissues are no longer out of the question. Even Joanna Newsom, whose Ys is one of the best “freak folk” records of 2006, has routinely denounced the term in just about every single one of her so many interviews of late. The girl has even started to namedrop Randy Newman as her biggest influence, and we all know that the freakiest thing about Randy was the soundtrack to Toy Story 2.
So if anything were actually possible to hinder Alela Diane’s stunningly beautiful debut, The Pirate’s Gospel, it’s the timing. Had Gospel come out three years ago, Alela would be as big as Ms. Newsom (her very good also-Nevada City, California hailing friend), and certainly as respected. Gospel is yet another fully-formed new-folk classic. And it is a classic. Homegrown. Patchwork. Arrestingly intimate. Brazenly playful. Immaculately arranged. It’s as good as Milk-Eyed Mender, or Rejoicing in the Hands. In fact, Gospel, is ever so slightly more accessible than either of those records; Alela’s lyrics are more direct, her hooks are sharper. Sometimes a whole song is just a refrain and one gets the distinct impression that Alela’s biggest influences are spirituals. She’s into sing-a-longs, and it’s no surprise that some of the most gorgeous moments on all of Gospel are when chorus’ of children, or groggy baritone booming men, or just about anyone else in the room rejoices in Alela’s…er….chorus’ (see: the scene-stealing title track). Sometimes that means just whistling (”Foreign Tongue”), sometimes that means clapping your hands or singing soulful gibberish like “o-we-o” (”The Pirates Gospel”) or “clickity, click, click, clack” (”Clickity Clack”), and sometimes it means just plain blissfully singing-a-long as her children’s meta-chorus wonderfully does on “Pieces of String.” It’s all there.
And if Diane comes off sounding a little like Devendra from time to time, mourning over her “tired, tired feet” in a wounded multi-tracked brass howl on the album’s opener “Tired Feet,” it’s only cause she, like Devendra, has studied the late Karen Dalton like a Bible. Alela even hints as much on the song’s gauzy refrain — she coos, “I know that here I’ve sung before / Here I’ve sung before.” And if Gospel is any proof at all, Alela will be singing here before for a very, very long time to come. Best New Artist of ‘07?”
Barry Walters, SPIN:
“Accompanied mostly by her acoustic guitar, newcomer Alela Diane Menig sings stark, ghostly folk. And while her chords and picking may be beginner’s stuff, she’s already flaunting a large, lived-in growl flavored by antediluvian blues and jazz inflections. Far less girly than kindred spirit Joanna Newsom, and no less commanding, this Portland based siren shares with her pal a primitivism shaped by backward glances and backwoods living. Warning of nightmarish rural invaders in “The Rifle” and vowing to keep her eyes open on the showstopping sea chantey title track, Diane seems destined for grander endeavors. [3.5 out of 4 stars]”
Will Hermes, The New York Times:
“This summer kindred bands like the darkly pastoral Espers, the gorgeously lyrical Vetiver, the raging Comets on Fire, the entrancing Six Organs of Admittance, the boogie-rocking Howlin Rain, the molasses-grooved Brightblack Morning Light, the computer-enhanced Tunng, the improvisatory Wooden Wand and the noisily experimental Grizzly Bear are all releasing CD’s, as are others ‘ Jolie Holland, Ane Brun, Cibelle, Juana Molina and M. Ward ‘ less connected to the scene but reflecting its aesthetics. And that’s not to mention promising artists like Alela Diane who are popping up almost daily on Internet showcases.”
Bill Copeland, Venus:
“On album-opener ‘My Tired Feet,’ from Alela Diane’s sophomore album, ‘The Pirate’s Gospel,’ Diane makes a strong impression, singing about her exhaustion at a long journey taken: ‘My tired feet led me to the red boat so still in foreign waters.’ In fact, throughout the album, Diane infuses common objects and images with greater meaning as in ‘The Rifle,’ which tells of a father’s hunting rifle as a symbol of protection from marauders who prey on innocent families in rural isolated areas. Diane’s guitar’s strong impression and haunting arpeggios give a sense of moving forward undaunted and each song gets a push from the nimble style of a bluegrass banjo.
Among these strenths, Diane’s greatest asset is her voice. Echoing wide, her timbre is rich and thick and her range is higher than most acoustic singer-songwriters, bringing each track to peaks and valleys that draw you in. ‘Foreign Tongue’ shows her range hitting higher notes with clarity and purpose as Diane sings a melody with little support from a simple guitar. ‘Can You Blame The Sky’ features Diane harmonizing with herself in beautifully thick overdubs on the choruses. Employing slide guitar on ‘Sister Self,’ Diane’s introspection resonates on the smooth flow of extended, sustained blues. Closer ‘Oh! Mama’ gives thanks to Diane’s most important musical influence, who taught her most of what she knows.
Diane gives simple objects meaning by attaching to them personal significance and uses her uncanny, wide timbre to bring out greater emotion in each.”
Ned Raggett, All Music Guide:
“First released in 2004 as a private CD-R run then later re-released formally in 2006, the softly spooked-out acid folk of The Pirate’s Gospel is a captivating debut from Alela Diane, whose enthusiasm and ability for a then-extremely-fresh learner on guitar is quite something. Recorded by her father, who also helps perform on many tracks along with other friends and family members, the disc showcases Alela Diane’s knack for gentle, immediate melodies and her fine voice, possessed of a hint of twang that suggests a combination of Dusty Springfield and Kristin Hersh, with a rich maturity beyond her years. The high and lonesome catch on songs like ‘Foreign Tongue’ and ‘Clickity Clack’ is quite something, while the interplay of vocals and guitar on the latter is particularly beautiful. Like her contemporary Larkin Grimm, she brings older forms of music to life with vivid performances, sometimes striking imagery, and a love for surprising little touches, such as the line ‘And a choir of little children sing along’ from ‘Pieces of String,’ which is, indeed, sung by two young kids. The title track may just be the standout among them all with its low, moody backing vocals and an appropriate hint of sea shanty atmosphere in the chorus, while guest banjo from Matt Gottschalk adds a further tinge of mysteriousness. It’s important to note that the 2006 version of the album differs greatly from the private release — the sequencing is somewhat altered, while a number of tracks are dropped, and a separate one, ‘Can You Blame the Sky?,’ is added. Both versions of the album are excellent but the earlier CD-R release is worth seeking out if one enjoys the later edition, especially for such fine songs as ‘Gypsy Eyes’ and ‘Heavy Walls.’”
Michael Byrne, Willamette Week:
“In the 11 songs of Alela Diane’s debut album, The Pirate’s Gospel, there is barely a reference’musically or otherwise’to the past decade. Or the one before that. Or before that, for that matter. She’s written the sort of timeless, abstract songs that are endangered or extinct outside of folk music, and are still rare within it. This isn’t to say that there’s anything like oblivion on this record. Is there a war going on? Of course, but there’s always a war going on. The one she writes of in ‘The Rifle’ could just as well be taking place in Ho Chi Minh City, Baghdad or Gettysburg. All we know of are ‘heavy boots, heavy big black boots’ and the fear of a child trapped in the middle of it all. Is there heartbreak and loss? Certainly. On her song ‘Can You Blame the Sky?’ she asks, ‘Can you blame the sky/ When a momma leaves her babies behind?’ Diane has an amazing gift: The ability to fill anyone’s shoes but her own, hanging her sparse forest folk songs on beautiful and honest little snippets of a world based on shared sense and feeling.
This sense of communal expression carries throughout the music as well. Her voice’a boundless throat tempered by an obvious humility and creeping tendrils of vocal smoke’channels (in the immediate) hipster ironists CocoRosie, but if there’s any justice will fall closer to Jolie Holland or Billie Holiday as a cultural imprint. The music is as bare and simple as that of either artist, rarely accompanied or propped with flourishes; this stays far, far away from the dozens of microgenres of folk birthed in the past decade or so (free, freak, psych and on down the growing list). The finest exception to the voice/guitar formula, ‘Pieces of String,’ is emboldened by the cute and touching accompaniment of a few little kids. Overall, the album is filled with an extremely self-aware traditionalism that, in the hands of such a talented songwriter with a keen sense of timelessness, is, at least, refreshing. It’s amazing this is a debut album from a 22-year-old songwriter. But, again, for Ms. Diane, youth and time are meaningless things. In what may be a rare moment of wearing her own shoes, she opens wide the record with the line ‘punish the youth from my eyes.’ Not too fast, though. Please.”
Jess Holland, Bust:
“There’s a campfire crackle to Alela Diane’s debut album - 40 minutes of country-blues that take inspiration equally from Beth Orton and fellow Nevada City native (and Alela fan) Joanna Newsom. Backed by and acoustic guitar and harmonizing with herself, Diane sings about tatting lace and envying the dirt; even yo-ho-hoing in seadog style on the album’s title track, where her usual restraint is thrown overboard in favor of a big lurching chorus. Although Diane has little new to throw onto the new-folk bonfire - where willful anachronism and unabashed treehugging rule supreme - the album’s a grower. You may find it hard to deal with earnest songs like “Can You Blame The Sky?” although if you manage to score a copy that’s been handstitched and illustrated by the artist herself (she’s hawking ‘em at shows), your chances of keeping cynical eyebrow raised are halved, at least.”
Mike McGonigal, Amazon.com:
“Now here’s a lovely surprise. A singer-songwriter who hails from Nevada City, California, and currently resides in Portland, Oregon, Alela Diane Menig has a voice that seems far older than her early-twenty-something years. This version of her second album has been newly mastered, slightly truncated, and resequenced: the changes are all for the better. But if you’ve not heard her before, that’s cool; her early releases were all on her own CD-R label. Her sing-songy tunes are honest and earthy, her diction intense and mannered but never pretentious. It’s hard to believe this crisp recording was made in a home studio. The songs–plaintive vocals accompanied by a slight guitar and backing vocals, often little else–seem situated perfectly between the parlor and the campfire. Alela’s a talented vocalist, in the vein of Josephine Foster, Regina Spektor, and Jolie Holland. At times she even approaches the heights of Karen Dalton and Joni Mitchell. More soon, please!”
Adam Gnade, Portland Mercury:
“Alela Diane sings folk songs about big-bellied whales and rocky ground and tatted lace. Her new record is The Pirate’s Gospel, a handmade, 15-track thing brimming with kiddy choirs, banjo, bare harp-like acoustic guitar, and Alela’s big, echoing voice, which fills up a room and makes her, a guitar, and two mics sound like a stomping, shouting chorus.”
Devan Cook, Willamette Week:
“Alela Diane’s soulful folk tunes are so beautiful they hurt. […] There isn’t a shadow of a doubt that this talented lady is truly a big fish in a small pond, and it’s gonna take an ocean to hold the massive amount of heart found in her music”
