Send "Julian Lynch " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 The most impressive thing about Terra, Julian Lynch's third album, is how much stylistic ground it covers while sounding like it barely gets off the collapsible camping chair. Taken as a whole, it's folksy post-rock, but broken down into parts, there are elements of Pharaoh Sanders' meditative jazz; blossoming, Eno-like song structures; George Harrison's Eastern flirtations; the monastic drones of mid-70s German music; and the hippyish optimism of a group like the Incredible String Band. (There's probably more, too, but I'll leave room for the geeks and trainspotters.) Lynch's talent as a writer-- and as a listener before that-- is to hear how all these sounds essentially exist on the same spectrum: They're earthy, unhurried, and occupied by a hypnotic kind of beauty.Lynch is a 26-year-old PhD student in ethnomusicology, which I weigh more as a biographical curiosity than some kind of key as to why he's able to make good music. He's not particularly phenomenal or technically capable as an instrumentalist (or if he is, he's not rubbing our noses in it), but he handles everything-- whether it's piano, drums, saxophone, or synthesizer-- without a twitch or fumble. And despite the variety of the instruments, everything on the album sounds like it's riding backseat. If anything sticks out, it's his voice-- it's a little nasal and attention-getting, though I can't imagine him letting someone else sing, either. Lynch's music is essentially nice, which Pitchforker Joe Colly hinted at when reviewing last year's Mare: "For how druggy and narcotized it sounds, it doesn't come across as sad or tuned-out." I'd argue that it is tuned-out, but I agree that it's not sad: Terra doesn't ever feel like it's staring down the void or opening a space for the listener's loneliness (whether it's the warm or the cold kind ). Most of the album stays just above resting pulse-- at its most agitated, it's a hootenanny in slow motion. Lynch gets a lot of "front"/"back porch" in his reviews, which I generally agree with, but would choose to add: warm weather, fading daylight, bird twitter, and your relaxant of choice....full text |
| Consequenceofsound |
| Google Search Julian Lynch. Now look anywhere for a Wikipedia page. Having trouble finding one? That’s because it doesn’t exist. Expect that to change in the coming weeks, as Julian Lynch has taken his strange brand of ambient folk and even stranger brand of marketing (Did you see a MySpace music page while doing that Google Search?) to a new level, a move that will certainly earn him a few more stripes of success, desired or not. His previous release, Mare, was as rich in subtle dynamics as it was in vague, yet inspiring vocals. The album received some major press and indie cred, and rightfully so. The album not only revived the glory days of dissonant freak folk a la Castanets, and early Akron/Family, it also pushed the genre into a realm of ambient music previously undiscovered. The follow-up to his groundbreaking last release is precisely on that course. Staying wonderfully true to form, Lynch takes his music even further into the ambient genre, and adds layer upon layer of rich texture. Lynch touches moments worthy of Sigur Rós a few times on the album, with tracks like “Terra” and “Fort Collins”, both abundantly resonant. The very next moment, however, he returns to his gleeful simplicity, as on tracks like “Water Wheel One” and “Ground”. A seemingly extravagant juxtaposition, sure, but one that makes for a powerfully captivating listen. With every listen, a new layer of depth is uncovered and a new side of Lynch is revealed. Whether it be his affinity for drawn-out woodwinds or his love of kinetic synths, Lynch displays his enormous capacity for music of all sorts. Closing the album on a note of triumph, he takes a look backward at folk music in its traditional sense on “Back”....full text |
| Tinymixtapes |
| Listening to the music of Julian Lynch, I can't help but feel like I know the guy. Much like James Murphy's omnipresent hipster from "Losing My Edge," a character like Lynch exists in college towns across America. He was there at the potluck on Friday. He brought the dank red pepper hummus. He was there at the used book store, thumbing through a copy of Adorno's Essays on Music. He was there in your living room last night. He blew your mind with the guidance of a shaman, showing you great YouTube videos on an evening of stoned internet exploration. Through his interviews and his music, he seems like the kind of guy you want hanging around, a chill, down-to-earth dude who always has a funny or interesting remark in his back pocket. It's worth noting, then, that Lynch is currently getting his PhD in a joint ethnomusicology and anthropology program at the University of Wisconsin at Madison. (In the future, when ethnomusicologists are breaking down the dynamics of college town music scenes from the early part of the 21st century, a guy like Lynch will definitely have his place.) In an interview with Tiny Mix Tapes, he pointed to the fact that his living situations and environments are heavily connected to his musical output. He highlights the "stimulation and confusion of an unfamiliar town" as the nexus of a creative spark and productivity, and while certainly not specific to this particular mode of being, those who have experienced the often nomadic existence of post-graduate studies should be able to identify with this feeling of being uprooted and then having to find your own creative or intellectual roots in relative isolation from the comfortable womb of friends and places, a life that was more or less estimable. On Terra, his third proper LP, Lynch continues to make music to soundtrack this kind of necessary retreat into one's self. The title track sets the album's tone as a whole: it's a confident stride, but still solidly within the repertoire that Lynch has already firmly established. Employing all of the strongest weapons in his arsenal — lilting clarinet, earthy bass, mellow gold harmonica, and bouncy tablas — it's a great way to start the record. Another highlight, "Canopy" features an easy rhythmic gallop, heady guitar flourishes, and a conversational clarinet, with pinched vocals bringing to mind Woods (a band whose role in this sort of plaid-wearing, earthy lo-fi aesthetic is often understated)....full text |
Julian Lynch lyrics Music videoclips
|
| ||||||||||
