Not Somewhere by Siskiyou

Siskiyou is essentially Colin Huebert who was once a member of Great Lake Swimmers. His latest album, Not Somewhere, has taken a while to put together. This was mainly due to him relocating across Canada from Vancouver to Toronto. He’d written and recorded skeletal versions of the songs in Vancouver. Once settled in Toronto he got together with cellist Rebecca Foon, Joseph Shabason and JP Carter (Destroyer) to add some magic dust. The music veers between The Velvet Underground, Elephant 6 collective and subdued folk. On Constellation.

Vinyl LP £17.75 CST142LP

180g vinyl LP on Constellation. Comes in a 20pt/420gsm jacket printed on uncoated 100% recycled paperboard, with 12x24 art print poster + 12x12 insert printed on uncoated paper.

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Not Somewhere by Siskiyou
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7/10 Will 14 May 2019

Colin Huebert is an American musician who records under the name Siskiyou and he’s releasing his fourth album ‘Not Somewhere’. This LP has hallmarks of lots of good and righteous things. There’s the finger-picking of Townes Van Zandt, the beauty of Kurt Vile at his most mellifluous, and the sparse Americana of Mark Kozelek.  

What I like about this album are the moments when things start to distort, crack, or fracture. ‘Untitled 32 (live off of the land)’ has these little moments of production noise that just add to the gently anguished tone of the song. The opening of ‘Her Aim Is Tall’ is like early Mary Chain covering Grant Lee Buffalo, all tape skips and sheet metal guitar. I also love the muffled quality of what is maybe the best song on the album ‘What Ifs’, which combines a Velvet Underground-chug with a weird polyphony of Huebert’s drawled lyrics. Now I’m completely aware that the press release specifically draws attention to the ‘Velvets-chug of ‘What Ifs’, but I’m still claiming it as my own, as I’m 90% sure ‘Velvets-chug’ is a phrase I must have written around two hundred times in reviews, conservatively estimating.

This is a fine effort from the boy Huebert. It skips on the melodrama and querulousness of modern indie-folky stuff, instead delivering a concise collection of moody americana.



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