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The Graze Artist Information Home | Audio/Visual | Press | Basic requirements | Calendar Voted #19 in threeimaginarygirls.com top 50 Northwest releases of 2004 readers' poll. Press Excellent debut from this local one man band "the Graze" (Louis
O'Callaghan). Passionate, heartfelt songs inspired by Elliott Smith or
Nick Drake but with is own original voice. Great songs with the right
amount of production and subtle guitar arrangement. Great debut. Regardless of the inevitable comparisons and mentioning of Neutral Milk
Hotel, Elliott Smith, Beck, the vague, occasional whispers of something
even Beatles-like and a hum of Nirvana-sprinkled tension, The Graze
navigates its way through a rugged and yet vulnerable emo landscape that's
both fresh and familiar for their audience. Revealing a simple approach, a
humble, stripped-down partnership with their own creativity, this
Seattle-based group's album earns its moments of culmination, earns its
peaks and transformations with ease and fluency, exposing their natural
talent for conceptualizing and manifesting the elusive and abstract
process of packaging emotion within song.
The Graze You may recall a time when it was still within the bounds of social behavior to willingly subject yourself to Conor Oberst's pained howl. Complete credit for this period should go to his backing band; they forged a compelling musical grounding for their theoretical leader's histrionics, drawn from rock, pop and yes, alt-country, that would never have been tossed into the emo heap were it not for Oberst's pitiful insistence. With Iowa Anvil, one man band The Graze (Louis O'Callaghan) scoops this sound out from under Bright Eyes and runs away. Oberst's whininess pursues him, but most of the time O'Callaghan triumphs over his self-pitying urges. The result is a strong, straightforward album that not only wants to be loved, but deserves it. This is not emo. That point cannot be stressed strongly or often enough. O'Callaghan is a grump, but he does not self-aggrandize and he does not want our pity. Rather, he seems to be examining his own and others' motivations pertaining to personal relations. Details are sparse, but you can draw your own conclusions from evocative lyrics like these: "It's quite enough to whine / In contentment / On-and-on! / It's good to place faith in love, / And betrayal / 'Cause nobody cares to separate / Their ends from the meaning / In you." O'Callaghan's voice does not falter as he sings his insights. He does not moan. He remembers that this is a song, that he is playing rock 'n' roll, and he is putting on a show. "Devices" gives us energy rather than taking it, climaxing with the first of Iowa Anvil's many Wilco-esque guitar solos. "Everything" borders on whiny, but O'Callaghan preserves his dignity by grounding the lyrics and almost-moaned vocals and a carefully plucked guitar. He forces himself to build up to the really emotional moments in his performance, resulting in a beautiful payoff. "Rely" builds on this foundation beautifully, with similar but greatly embellished country arrangements and a bitter chorus: "And you can't rely / On that you can rely. / And you can't rely! / On that, you can rely." The song builds to a slow, powerful guitar solo accented with tinny country percussion. "Maudlin" makes for a dramatic climax to this trilogy of songs, building on their thematic elements once more to incorporate reverse-gated guitars and O'Callaghan's most stirring performance yet. O'Callaghan then rocks out, incorporates his rock and country urges into "Nostalgia", and finally settles down to another excellent triad of tunes. The absolutely adorable "Filler" lands more in the alt-country/pop end of his spectrum, decorated with pianos and accented with light snare taps. In its final third, it explodes into an addictive, all-out pop anthem; you'll be unable to resist singing along. "Busy" takes this newfound sense of humor to its natural conclusion in a sparkly, tender song that perfectly captures the experience of loving someone, no matter how ridiculous they look. The warm glow it produces will carry you through "Imbecile" with a smile. It's difficult to discern what conclusion O'Callaghan has come to, but it's obvious that he has found one -- one that makes him happy. Peaceful, even. "And I don't want to see you again / I don't want to care what you mean to me", he sings, matter of factly. "And I think that it is / It's going well / 'cause it's all just a way to agree / That I don't want to see you again." It feels like one of those breakups where you both know things have gone too far, and now the whole thing is comical. You're parting on unfriendly terms, and you won't talk again. But really, that's okay. In fact, it's pretty funny. Iowa Anvil has all the nuance and ugly beauty of a real person. The
organ donors who allowed O'Callaghan to forge his sound should be
grateful for what he's done with their hearts; he clearly knew what to
do with their innards better than they did. The Graze is the one man recording project consisting of Louis
O'Callaghan. Iowa Anvil features an impressive combination of sincerity
and talent. Songs are Mr. O'Callaghan's main focus...and he has come up
with some real beauties here. Caressed in restrained arrangements that
allow the listener to concentrate on melody, these tunes possess a nice
flowing quality. By avoiding the normal clouded avenues of overdubbing
everything to death...this man's simple and pure recording style is
refreshing. This is not a perfect album. The louder numbers don't work
nearly as well as the softer tracks. But even with the imperfections,
there are enough classic moments here to make this a highly rewarding
disc. Best cuts: "Devices," "Everything," "Doubt," and "Nostalgia."
(Rating: 4+++) Another noteworthy act performing at Area 5 this week is The Graze, aka Seattle songwriter Louis O'Callaghan. The Graze's recent debut album, "Iowa Anvil," has drawn apt comparisons to Neutral Milk Hotel and Elliott Smith, and has earned raves from CD Baby and the Seattle Post-Intelligencer. It's a record full of sweeping, moody tracks, dressed out in fuzzed guitars and rich vocal harmonies, a kind of emo-meets-grunge affair. The tempting comparisons to other one-man bands - Beck, or Hayden, or Pedro the Lion - manage to fit just fine: This is a record that boasts a unity of spirit and a quality of craft that makes it bear up to plenty of repeated listenings. Of course, as a one-man band, it's likely that the Graze's live sound won't closely resemble the multi-instrumental, effects-laden aesthetic of the album. But chances are, a more stripped-down approach to this music would probably serve to further highlight O'Callaghan's voice. This is a good thing. With its rough-edged timbre and emotional urgency, O'Callaghan's born instrument is as fine as they come. The Graze will perform at Area 5 on Saturday, July 24. ...praise should be lavished on the Graze, the one-man project of
songwriter Louis O'Callaghan. The band's self-released debut, "Iowa
Anvil," is full of tender-hearted laments and wrenching ballads. His
tentative voice holds the perfect bland of agony and restraint.
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