It's the new offering from The
Ormidales.
This one, like the last, examines a number of
themes without sacrificing the cohesion that allows a sense of
seamlessness.
The Ormidales have a lot to say, and it's said
well.
Over 8 songs we are served a series of little
dreams, but these dreams are far from small.
The expanse of expression is free of clutter, and
that is wisely matched by spacious and sensitive arrangements.
This one really breathes.
It kicks off with a rollicking, genuine slice of
Americana by Canadians.
" Last Time " is propelled by Producer p d wohl's
take on the elusive " thin wild mercury sound " made famous ( by design or fluke
) by everyone's favorite mid ' 60's Nashville Cats.
The production throughout " These Little Dreams
" is razor sharp, and " Last Time " is a great
jump start.
" Boy So Blue " downshifts into inspired
melancholy while avoiding all temptation to drift into the malaise that often
plagues this universal theme.
The title tells us what it's about, but this boy
isn't content to wallow, and I'm left with the impression that while he's blue
now, he may not be blue for long.
This smooth downshift inspires our confidence in
the driver.
Said confidence allows us to move on, and movement
is what the title track " These Little Dreams " is all about.
Modes of transport, some real, some a product of
the subconscious, push and pull us along through the adhesive nature of memory,
and it's an always interesting trip.
" I Heard It On The Radio " is up next and I
believe it's a tribute to our love affair with the airwaves of our collective
past.
That's how it works for me anyway, and work it
does.
This brings me back to my decade when the radio was
it.
Our friend, our teacher, our alarm.
It's where we first heard our anthems.
Maybe that doesn't happen anymore.
It doesn't for me, but " I Heard It On The Radio "
reminds me that it once did, and what that meant to me.
I've had the opportunity to listen to " What Am I
Supposed To Do " for weeks before the rest of these songs.
I'm no closer to what I hoped would be a sense of
resolution.
This one twists me around with it's random spooky
disassociations.
There is a palpable sense of dread here that hits
home and I can't shake it.
Not sure I want to.
Our constantly questioning hero is in a fix that I
empathize with a bit too closely for comfort.
Needless to say, he one of my favorites in The
Ormidales' cast of characters.
Willing to bet his concerns remain unresolved
in the hoped for sequel.
I'm okay with that.
No I'm not.
" She Said You Said " is proof that The Ormidales
finally got that time machine working.
It's a romp through the best of early ' 60's
British heartbreak pop.
Were we ever really that young?
See George try not to look at Mr. Sullivan while he
performs his Shadows dance and anchors himself to the real world with his
Gretsch.
On the flip side is " Mrs Allen. "
It's the message no one wants.
From a poem by Malcolm McGonigal, it's a
grim indictment of the horror that all wars bring.
The heartbreaking violin, and an at odds chorus of
" we have to fight / why must we fight, " serve well the power of the message.
The Ormidales wrap it up with " This Day Is Done.
"
A fitting finish.
We've been through a lot, and of this day The
Ormidales tell us it's " Had it's problems, and it's fine with us.
"
It's fine with us too.
Bill Oliver and Mark Branscombe have given us a lot
to think about.
Like the face of the ancient moon that smiles down
from the disc's cover, there is wisdom here.