Send "Great Lake Swimmers " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Lostatsea |
 Progressing from a negligible tap on my windowpane, the gentle, yet consistent drip of a spring rain has developed into a steady downpour. So long as I stay dry inside, the constant dull thud of heavy drops on the roof is soothing and pleasant in the waning light of the day. The grey skies and lingering winter chill should have become oppressive with the recent changing of the season, but the damp murk outside is a good match for my weary mood. Whereas past Great Lake Swimmer albums would have been a perfect accompaniment for this forlorn evening, Lost Channels is instead a nice remedy. Both lyrically and musically the mood is brighter. More upbeat and cheerful, the new songs sing the joys of life and revel in a state of happiness. Singer Tony Dekker's voice is still beautiful, but instead of lending a haunting mood to the music, he revels in, and adds to, the band's playful folk rock. Great Lake Swimmers have not cast aside their distinguishing sound, instead they've skewed it a little more toward the more upbeat tracks that were scattered throughout their previous efforts. With albums like Bodies and Minds and Ongiara it was easy to find comfort and solace in Great Lake Swimmers' beautiful melancholy. Like a shoulder to rest a weary head on or a steaming cup of tea held between two palms, they could make bad times a little bit better. Lost Channels is still comforting, except now instead of misery finding company, Great Lake Swimmers have made an album that reaches down, and pulls you out of the darkness and into the light that was always there. Reviewed by Kevin Alfoldy An aspiring global adventurer who cut his teeth on the sandy beaches and dirty bitches of Southern California, Kevin Alfoldy now spends his non-vacation days in Brooklyn, New York, where he occasionally finds the time to rub the crust out of his eyes long enough to contribute reviews and feature articles for LAS. A longtime staff member, Kevin also captains the tattered, often half-sunk raft of EPmd, our irregular column of EP reviews....full text |
| Musicomh |
| Canadian folk-pop really is in a rude state of health at the moment, and hot on the heels of the rather marvellous latest opus from Wood Pigeon comes this, Great Lake Swimmers' fourth album. The Swimmers are in effect Tony Drekker and friends, and they recorded Lost Channels in the evocatively named Thousand Islands, at the north east of Lake Ontario - the channel itself referring to a stretch where a British warship was lost over two hundred years ago. Clearly the place had a lasting effect on the band, nowhere more so than Singer Castle, an imposing structure whose bells divide the album in two at its halfway point. They make a haunting sound, and their harsh tones are a striking contrast to the band's more mellow sound, but they do disrupt the flow of Drekker's intimate asides....full text |
| Nowtoronto |
| Great Lake Swimmers Lost Channels (Nettwerk) Carla Gillis Tony Dekker’s songs have a beautiful elegance to them, something found from beginning to end on Lost Channels, his Great Lake Swimmers’ fourth album. In a voice so fragile a strong breeze might overpower it, he offers sober ruminations on loneliness, life, love, longing, and artfully infuses each song with just the right amount of banjo, light drumming, acoustic guitar and vocal harmonies (often courtesy of the stellar Julie Fader). Recorded in various locations in and around the Thousand Islands, the album’s first half is (relatively) peppy, featuring standouts like Pulling On A Line, which has a great mandolin-driven chorus, and Concrete Heart, an homage to Toronto. The latter half switches to snail’s pace and threatens to become background music to even your most tranquil activity....full text |
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