#marty willson-piper

[andypartridges]

the church performing on italian tv, 1988

#everyone looks so good here :-) #i think i'll probably make a self indulgent 'marty being a guitar showman' gifset at some point bc well. i am nothing if not predictable #the church #steve kilbey #marty willson-piper #peter koppes #richard ploog #australian music #australian rock #80s music #post punk #the church band #mia makes stuff

[ent-mbed]

#the church #the church band #steve kilbey #marty willson-piper #neo psychedelic #80s music #80s indie #jangle pop

[sinceileftyoublog]

The Church Live Show Review: 11/1, Evanston SPACE

BY JORDAN MAINZER

I'll admit it: Thought I admire both their underrated back catalog and new concept album The Hypnogogue (Communicating Vessels), having never seen The Church, I was wary of Steve Kilbey's ability to weave AI-inspired futuristic concepts into the shimmery wistfulness of the band's old songs. Maybe this was the result of having spent so much time recently trying to place myself in the mind of another overly ambitious rock icon. And perhaps my thoughts were unfair considering The Hypnogogue is a cohesive-sounding front-to-back album, stellar independent of its story. But a part of me was nonetheless skeptical of the juxtaposition of heady slow burns with dream pop classics.

Well, immediately after finishing the building "Ascendence", Ian Haug and Ashley Naylor's siren-like guitars leading the way, Kilbey declared that the Australian band was "playing better than ever before," 26 gigs in a row be damned. Indeed, they were so fine-tuned--his perfectly yearning vocals on "Destination", touring drummer Nicholas Meredith's disco beat breakdown on "Metropolis"--that by the time he introduced the concept of The Hypnogogue on ballad "No Other You", you were too, well, hypnotized, by the stadium sounds emanating from a small stage, to take in the plot. Kilbey contextualized The Hypnagogue's songs within the album's universe whenever he introduced them, but he did so non-linearly, as if each song was its own vignette. "Flickering Lights" sees the narrator hearing a nostalgic song in a cab, represented live by Jeffrey Cain's washy synths and Haug and Naylor's chiming guitars. "Antarctica", meanwhile, is named after the motherland of the main character, and the band's Pink Floyd-like, deliberate, effects-heavy prog funk conjured the feeling of being so cold you can't think straight. "Albert Ross"'s namesake in the fictional world is a disappeared guitar tech, and what better way to pay tribute to the lost soul than for Kilbey to thank the band's road crew, especially because they had to bring a mandolin just for that song?

Of course, The Church's hits were highlights, from "Hotel Womb" and "Fly", both enveloped by voluminous synths, to a lounge-like version of "Under the Milky Way" and stomping "Grind". But I was blown away by many of their deep cuts. During a mid-concert mini acoustic set, they nailed "Old Coast Road", a gorgeously jangly highlight from 2014's Further/Deeper. Meredith's motorik drumming both propelled and offered a welcome contrast to the otherwise beatific "C'est La Vie". Kilbey's dry, spoken delivery on "Second Bridge" recalled the depth of Jarvis Cocker. And "Tantalized", sans the theatrical horns of its studio version, was a tried and true monochromatic banger, clattering drums and scratchy, early 80's-The Edge-like guitars splitting eardrums in a venue over four times smaller than the theaters The Church were playing earlier in the year.

Ask any casual music fan about The Church, and they'll think of the band who made "Under the Milky Way". It is a great song; the moment the synthetic guitar solo meant to sound like bagpipes comes in, is one of the greatest in 80's rock. I posit, though, that their best song is "Reptile", whose revolving Marty Willson-Piper riff is the earworm of all earworms. This lineup, along with appropriate green and orange strobe lighting, stuck the landing, the dual guitar interplay shining in a matchup of stop-start stabs behind Kilbey's whispered sneer of a vocal turn. It was the emotional climax of the show, prepping you for the all-out closing cacophony jam of "You Took", and one that reminded you that a band in their fifth decade sounds like they could share a stage with some of today's best post-punk bands, even if their sound is meant to evoke noises of the past.

#live music #the church #space #communicating vessels #steve kilbey #ian haug #nicholas meredith #the hypnogogue #evanston space #ashley naylor #jeffrey cain #pink floyd #Further/Deeper #jarvis cocker #the edge #Marty Willson-Piper

[blacklodgemusictx]

Salim Nourallah: Record Release Mini Tour - Night One

Standing in front of the Lonesome Rose honky tonk in San Antonio, I am keenly reminded of what it was *not* when I last stood here. When last here it was January. It was not 95 degrees.

I’m starting to sweat. I gravitate to available outdoor seating: a row of what appears to be old movie theater chairs… stuffing coming out through loose cushion stitches appears to be *squint* hair…?

Jason Garner is there. I’ve never actually spoken to him, but with his bare, tattooed arms and cheerful blue mohawk, he’s recognizable to say the least. He’s crouched over taking pictures of a cactus by the stairs. The cactus is smiling.

“We’ve never actually met. We’re LizNDoug (run it together. All one word. Can’t have one without the other… like peanut butter and jelly)… Salim’s friends.”

Sure! He’s seen us at shows. The same way we’ve seen him. He disappears inside to see if a Salim could be located. No, he’s gone off to eat.

I continue wilting. It’s 15 minutes to the announced door time, but there is no one around. Absolutely no one. The key to walking in where you may or may not belong is confidence. Just walk in. So we did.

The difference between the bright sunshine and the low light dazzles my eyes. A benevolent shadow form coalesces and hugs me. My eyes adjust. Olivia Willson-Piper. There she is being happy to see me again - still getting use to that: kind people being happy to see me for no other reason than my basic existence. She’s there with Marty having a bite to eat.

Marty is a vegetarian. He informs us while delicately unwrapping his… wrap (?) that he also doesn’t like peppers. He tweezes them out while we chat.

Olivia and I end up under a light source comparing tattoos. I start naming off the menagerie of animals that dot my arms. And let slip that my favorite chicken - an artistically rendered Lavender Orpington on my left forearm- is called Olivia. She seems delighted.

John Dufhilo appears. I haven’t really ever spoken to him before, but just like Jason Garner, he is immediately recognizable. We are Salim facilitated Facebook friends and not too long ago, I added my voice to those on said social media platform rejoicing as he recovered from a massive heart attack. He surprises and delights me with a hug. It is wonderful seeing him well and hearty.

Joe Reyes is there. We know him a little better than some of these satellites we have met in Salim’s orbit. He has the best smile. Seems genuinely delighted to just be in a room with air. The addition of friends and the opportunity to play music? Even better.

At some point Salim appears. It’s hard to talk amidst the bustle of a bar waking up for its nightly duties. Something upsetting happened to him the day before. I hug him. I got nightmare family news (related to the nightmare of my family… namely it’s toppled, usurped, disgraced patriarch. Daddy issues? I’ll have a lifetime subscription) this very day and have spent a good portion of my afternoon crying.

He’s going to play, “Let Go” from his new album, he tells me. I like it… this is an excellent idea. The *only* thing that would give me peace right now is that very [impossible] action.

Time passes. Positions shift. Marty dons glasses and moves to a different table. He looks like a stern bookkeeper going over accounts. In reality, he’s making a setlist.

More time passes. I don’t mind the wait. To get my fix in the vicinity of musicians, I used to queue up first thing in the morning and spend all day without food or water to be first in, front row for The Flaming Lips. My only reward for that might be a faraway wave from Steven or a chat with Kliph.

Sitting inside the dark and cool, talking to these fascinating people - my friends - this is heaven.

Early on, Doug is recruited to run merch. I’m not surprised. The merch table has become our station. Doug is in his element. Me? I’ll helpfully point at the records. Tell people after the set where the songs they thought were catchy originated. Tell them ‘A Nuclear Winter’ yes, that’s the newest one. But I stand here next to him proudly. Whatever you need. Whatever helps.

Salim and the Treefort Five are first to play tonight (he tells me later their new name is ‘Salim and the Philistines.’)

I am deeply deeply biased at this point… but they sound incredible to me. Seeing Salim backed by a full band… he comes alive in a completely new way as a performer. I’ve been lucky enough to behold this two other times - Sons of Hermann Hall in Dallas in 2019. Then this year (2023) opening for the Old 97s. I love my friend as an energetic front man.

This time is different and monumental. This time Marty. Marty Willson-Piper formerly of Australian band The Church (this man is the whole reason we were brought in to warm regard of Salim Nourallah - he and Doug share a mutual love of The Church.)

Marty and Olivia came over in 2018 to be enfolded in to the Nourallah musical family. Recording, producing has happened even with a global pandemic to work around.

This is work coming to fruition. Nuclear Winter finally birthed. Marty is finally on stage by Salim’s side. I know this is monumental for him and I love it. I love witnessing this. I love being here. Love that he wants me here. Love that these amazing people jam packed in to this tiny room are our friends now too.

The amassed gents rip through a mix of Salim standards and a heavy dose of things from the new album.

The set end nears. I’ve snapped my pictures. Taken my videos. All in the name of seeing; witnessing; presence.

Olivia is on stage. I know ‘Friends for Life’ is coming. That’s one she started playing on during the shows 6 mos ago. This one makes me sad. I have a dear dear friend who allowed me to turn him on to Salim (there is no greater compliment than to let me show you the music I love… then love it to). This is his favorite. My friend is in Greenland. I haven’t seen him in months.

Friends for life… if I had to sum up my time with Salim it would be with those three words. If you are lucky enough to ever be on the receiving end of Salim’s regard, you have a friend for life. Just shut up and enjoy the ride.

But then it’s time. Time to ‘Let Go’ - another song made more achingly beautiful with the deft application of Olivia’s bow.

I cry. Bitterly. Let go, he tells me, surrender to the things I can’t control. Best advice possible… I’m so far away from that right now, all I can do is feel sorry for myself.

The set is over. Back to husband in the merch nook (we’ve seen many incarnations. This one is nice. Padded booths made into their own cozy corner.)

I feel wrung out. Physically. Emotionally. An older gentleman asks me if I’m ok. Brings me water. Oh good. I look as bad as I feel.

The Deathray Davies are next. I know John Dufilho fronts this configuration, but I’ve never seen them. I also don’t know how many people are in the band. Musicians appear - to tired eyes - to swarm the stage like clowns from a tiny car.

They tear in to their first song and I like them immediately. Their energy is palpable and consuming. Nick Earl appears to be old school Seattle grunge: rakes his hands across an artfully battered Jazzmaster, long hair hanging in his face.

That energy is catching. I spy my first dancer of the evening. This woman gives no fucks and it is a scene to behold. Her shuck and jive is part Ministry of Silly Walks part scraping-gum-off-her-shoe. She gyrates with an oily self aware sensuality. At one point, her untethered breasts seem in danger of escaping. Not so fast. She doesn’t miss a beat: stuffs the offending mammary back down through the armhole of her sundress. Not today, titty.

She. Is. Magnificent.

Salim is with us at this point. I start relaying what I have seen to Doug. Salim wants in to the conversation. I smile thinking about how I will pay tribute to her, “Just getting inspired.”

It’s at this point, the night takes it’s massive, sudden toll. I’ve got a stabbing pain in the back of my head. Great. When I fantasize about death, it’s quick. I don’t want to stroke out. Here I come, it’s The Big One.

… or I’m hungry and tired and dehydrated.

Salim says it’s ok, you don’t have to stay. Marty and Olivia are already gone. The place has cleared out in a hurry. Even those disciplines of rock have to get home at a reasonable hour on a weekday. There’s work in the morning.

I hate to miss Buttercup, but I don’t think Joe will blame me for feeling poorly.

So we sneak off to the healing powers of Whataburger.

I will live to rock another day.

#singer #songwriter #salim nourallah #joe reyes #marty willson-piper #the church #john dufilho #deathray davies #buttercup #lonesome rose #honky tonk #san antonio #treefort five #jason garner #salim and the philistines #nuclear winter #album release

[cybershubunkin]

Marty Willson-Piper

#marty willson-piper #the church

[jt1674]

#the church #reptile #starfish #marty willson piper #peter koppes #steve kilbey #richard ploog #another month or so you'll be gorging on me #how i loved your diamond eyes #but that was long ago

[nofatclips]

Exposure by Aura Zorba from the album Glitter Days Are Gone

#music #aura zorba #cory gehrich #sisterly silence #marty willson piper #artwork #sam gehrke #adam gonsalves #telegraph mastering #shore dive #shore dive records #w!ckedly llc #corey gehrich

[balladofsallyrose]

Hi

thunder opens its throat under bad signs we were born out on the town kicking around feeling bluesy good times have flown your ritual everyday

send me a ‘hi’ and I will put my playlist on shuffle, write down the first line of five songs and give it to you as a poem

#thank you <3 #you whisper by marty willson-piper #young and doomed by frank iero and the future violents #another night by the hollies #new love grows on trees by pete doherty #its so easy by strangelove #yourself by the manics

[sweetdreamsjeff]

TIMELESS GRACE

By: Noel Mengel

Date: Sept. 5, 2015

The exquisite music of Tim and Jeff Buckley is being honoured, writes Noel Mengel

Tim Buckley died in 1975, of a heroin overdose. He was 28. The US singer-songwriter had started young, releasing his self-titled debut album in 1966, before he was 20. He left behind nine studio albums - and an eight-year-old son he barely knew.

In 1991, that son, Jeff Buckley, still pondering how to get a start in a music career, accepted an invitation to take part in a tribute show to Tim Buckley in Brooklyn.

He had no desire to start a career on the back of his father's reputation but, as he would explain later, it bothered him that he hadn't even gone to his dad's funeral. He wanted to pay his respects.

One of the people in the concert was guitarist Gary Lucas, who established his reputation in Captain Beefheart's band and was a Tim Buckley fan in his youth.

"When I heard what Jeff was capable of, it was jaw-dropping," Lucas recalls. "I said to him, 'Jeff, you are a star.' He was very modest: 'I am? Really?' At that point he was retiring, maybe he lacked a little confidence. I thought it was my job to instil more confidence, to mentor him." The tribute show and Jeff's performance were a success, and Buckley soon started making a name for himself playing shows around New York.

Meanwhile, Lucas wound up with a day job for a record company but his "soul was crying out" so he returned to music and released a number of well-received solo albums during the '90s. Then Jeff Buckley offered to be his singer. "That concentrated my mind wonderfully," he says.

In a week, Lucas finished two instrumental pieces and showed them to Buckley. They became Mojo Pin and Grace, key tracks on Buckley's debut solo album, Grace.

"He just knew what to do and where to place his voice," Lucas recalls. "I could hand him these very dense instrumentals that just sounded right to me and he would elevate them to something that was beyond our individual efforts." Buckley started working with Lucas's band Gods And Monsters, but soon left to pursue his solo career.

Grace, the only album he released in his lifetime, came out in 1994. Acceptance was slow in his own country but overseas, especially in Australia, the album took off.

Then, just as he was about to start work on a new album in Memphis in 1997, he went swimming in the Mississippi River, fully clothed, and disappeared. He was 30. His body was found a week later. An autopsy revealed no sign of drugs or alcohol.

Musicians who loved his music have never forgotten its power. Steve Kilbey recalls sitting backstage at a gig when he first heard Grace playing through the PA system out front. "It was when I was touring with (Church guitarist) Marty Willson-Piper," he says. "We both went, 'What is this?' and sent someone to find out. I was immediately taken. I thought it was one of the best voices I had ever heard." Jeff Buckley's presence and tragic death loomed large in the circles Martha Wainwright moved in during the late 1990s.

"Young men wanted to be him and women wanted to be with him. That was the vibe that I found," she says. "Even though he was very gracious about his talents and his abilities, he was a born star." The music of father and son is different. The connecting point is the quality of their soaring, mercurial voices.

"There was an otherworldliness there in both of them, something mystical," Wainwright says. "Though they barely knew each other, you can't deny the fact they are the same blood." Kilbey and Wainwright are among the musicians Lucas has assembled to recapture the magic of Tim and Jeff Buckley's songs. Others include Casper Clausen (of Efterklang), Willy Mason, Camille O'Sullivan and Cold Specks, with Lucas as musical director backed by his band Gods And Monsters.

* A State Of Grace, The Music Of Tim & Jeff Buckley, Enmore Theatre, 118-132 Enmore Rd, Enmore; September 27, 7.30pm, $78-$138, enmoretheatre.com.au

From: Daily Telegraph (Sydney, New South Wales, Australia)

#jeff buckley #noel mengel #the daily telegraph australia #timeless grace #a state of grace the music of time and jeff buckley #2015 #enmore theatre

[haakanlindell]

           Marty Willson-Piper                    and                      Steve Kilbey

#The Church #the church band #Marty Wilson-Piper #Steve Kilbey

[lastchancevillagegreen]

Friday, 10 May 2024:

Lazy, Soft & Slow Guy Chadwick (Setana) (released in 1997)

Guy Chadwick was the lead singer (and songwriter) for House of Love, one of an endless amount of bands who I never paid attention to. He recorded one solo album and this is it. I discovered this artist on God's Jukebox, courtesy of PartyTearsFew who has also gifted me Weyes Blood and The Siddeleys. This album will easily be overplayed by me this month. What a beauty it is! (It puts me in mind of Marty Willson-Piper if you are looking for a baseline.)

Above you see the front and the back of the album. Below you can see the jewel case opened up to reveal the back of the booklet and the CD.

This next shot is a photo of a random shot inside the booklet.

Here is a close up of the CD.

[g0rg0n-heap]

#Spotify

[musicarenagh]

‎Blueburst Releases The ‘Supernova’Supernova was created under the logos “No one gets out of life alive” and this fact has been boldly etched into the sophomore single of singer-songwriter and producer Craig Douglas Miller who performs under the pseudonym Blueburst. After more than two decades of being on a hiatus, Blueburst finally dusted himself off and decided to jump back to doing what he found joy and happiness doing most. He got in touch with one of his musical idols, legendary guitarist Marty Willson-Piper (The Church, Noctorum, MOAT) and the fusion gave birth to Supernova. Supernova is fast-paced, energetic, and full of the explosive drumline, it’s a follow-up od his debut single “Vanish”. The lyrics of the song compliments the instrumental of the song as the lyrics of the song are circled around making the best out of your life because you have only one life. “No one gets out alive No one gets any more time” This is a recurring hook and before you realize you are singing - “After turning 50, I decided it was time to quit stalling and get on with it, damn the torpedoes,” said Miller. “That’s what this song is about. We only get one shot at life, and you’ve got to make the most of things while you can.” – says Blueburst. How he crafts the lyrics of the song to crawl under your skin is a skill only few artist can ever lay their hands on, and he makes good use of you, his song-writing skills cannot be overlooked, he gives something you can jam to and same time reason with. The sound resonates with everybody as death they say is inevitable, such a wonderful way to put that ethos. Listen to Supernova below   Follow Blueburst on Facebook Twitter Soundcloud Bandcamp Youtube Instagram  

[yorkcalling]

Album Review: Blueburst - Significance

Blueburst, the collaboration between guitarist and vocalist Craig Douglas Miller of The Reach and Marty Willson-Piper of The Church, first came to our attention in the spring of this year. I was instantly taken with their debut single Vanish, so much so much so that I’ve shared several other of their tracks this year. The single releases have now all culminated into a debut album. It’s called…

View On WordPress

[blacklodgemusictx]

"Have a good time!" You deserve it.

I deserve it...? I had a series of misfortunes last year from month 1 to month 12. A bunch of bad things happened... but she lost her brother. I lost a dear friend, but she lost blood. That she qualifies my good time like this is one of the many things I have faced lately that I haven't the brain power to deal with or the words to articulate. There is a secret sadness marked on her heart with her brother's name and yet she and her family are making sure we can leave town for an extended period of time without fearing for our menagerie of creatures; beloved furry and feathery companions.

You deserve it.

I have never deserved anything a day in my life.

I don't know why I think this way. I try to be mindful because I have heard similar declarations from friends and that they don't understand their own worth and that they are deserving of good things... sometimes the amount of sense such statements lack... I want to shake them. Shake sense in to them. Which means someone out there probably wants to shake me for similar reasons.

All I can think of is mirror pieces. Pieces of lots of things. The great shattering. The Tower of Babbel. When everything broke and we were all cast apart as diminished creatures, you ended up with a piece I need. I have the pieces you need, but if you don't talk to me... I'll never know. And vice versa.

I gave her a song.

He gave me books to read that changed my life.

She gave voice to my own ponderings: why isn't anything beautiful anymore? (She makes everything she touches more beautiful. The world is truly a more beautiful place simply by her existence in it.) The cars all the look the same, the buildings all look the same. There are no more great monuments to time and place and humanity in our weird throw away culture.

All of this is to say, human experience is the great unifier... if we let it be.

And we are on tour again. Rental car trouble and a flight change right out of the gate, but we are there.

I tell the nice couple in front of us at the Mucky Duck in Houston last night. Salim? We're with him. All the Texas dates and then? Then after San Antonio, we fly to Philadelphia and keep going with him and Rhett Miller.

I'm not trying to brag. I promise. I am trying to articulate the amazing amount of luck that has lead me to this place on this night (fabulous little venue -- try the shepard's pie with a Princess Peach mocktail... you won't be sorry!)

My husband stirs next to me. He makes some sort of noise of dissent when I say "we" … "we are with them." But we are. I'm not playing pretend like so many years ago where "going on tour" meant being at all the same shows as a certain band who would wave and maybe say my name, "Hi, Liz!" while they went to their air conditioned dressing rooms and I sat outside in the heat... heat... heat... it was always heat. And I wouldn't eat or drink so I could keep my place in line and then when the band finally hit the stage: I'd be so dehydrated, many times I would swoon.

Told the guitar player that once, "I thought that was you!" He smiled. Smiled. That happened. Hit the ground in Austin so many years ago. And no one cared. Especially not the people a younger, more naïve me would have done anything for.

Misplaced allegiance.

No. it's not that way this time.

This time Marty Willson-Piper gets the biggest smile on his face when he sees us. His [beautiful, radiant, wonderful] wife, Olivia, comes to say hello. Salim's friend [powerhouse, force for good, appreciator of cats] Sarah sits with us at our table for a bit. Salim's brilliant guitar player friend, Joe Reyes, tells me it's nice to see me. Salim asks us how we like The Duck.

Salim, infinitely patient, described it to me as a sort of exposure therapy: if I am around good, kind people who like me and want me around long enough maybe I will start to finally believe that is what I deserve.

I truly don't know what I deserve, but I believe Salim and the others when they talk. And I am smart enough to know I am currently living a life others only dream of.

"How do you go on tour, Liz"? I was asked after last time. You go after what you want. You don't give in to fear. I just happened to meet a strange, tall, talented man that radiated vibes of goodness and caring and instead of crawling off in a bush to be intimated as is per my usual, I went after what I wanted: yes, sir, I know we are both adults and therefore this is awkward beyond imagining, but you sing pretty songs that touch my heart. Please be my friend.

And sometimes the simplest approach is all it takes.

#joe reyes #marty willson-piper #oliviawillsonpiper #muckyduck #houston #tx #writer #singer #songwriter #producer #human experience #human condition #intimidation #respect #friendsforlife #salimnourallah #ontour #on the road #self esteem #encouragement #positive exposure

[cybershubunkin]

Help locate Marty Willson-Piper’s Stolen Rickenbacker.

https://martywillson-piper.com/category/blog/

Marty: This is my stolen 1965 Rickenbacker 12-string, serial number EB157. If there's any chance of this guitar coming back to me before I go to meet my maker, then that would be wonderful. Please contact me if you have any information.

#rickenbacker #stolen guitar #the church #marty willson-piper