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artist Woodpigeon

Calgary, AB, CANADA
Boompa Records
genres
Folk, Alt Pop
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104,763

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biographical info

WOODPIGEON'S 'THUMBTACKS + GLUE'

by Mary Christa O'Keefe

 

Hand axes. Watts Towers. Cornell’s boxes. Sirk’s painterly cathartic tearjerkers. Rimbaud’s

Bohemian Life. Queen’s 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. To all quixotic human enterprises built for no

purpose but purpose itself, things put together with emotional spittle and creational sweat

that bellow or whisper “I’m here; we’re here” into the Void, add the latest effort from the

incomparable Woodpigeon.

 

For almost a decade and across five albums, Mark Hamilton’s principal engine of invention

has been Woodpigeon. Mark once told me that he named his band Woodpigeon because,

“I thought it was the most beautiful word I’d ever heard”. And Woodpigeon became a

search for replicating that thrill of elemental, existential beauty in a sonic context, a

dowsing rod that dipped over splendid choices as he laboured over chords and words.

 

Yes, laboured. Don’t be fooled by the effortless majesty of Thumbtacks + Glue. We’ll

never really know long Mark spent sculpting this record, how he sung it into being from

nothingness into its substantial somethingness. How he wove together voices and notes and

rhythms and obsessive little instrumental and production thingies that make no sense at the

time except to the craftsman to carve out these hauntingly gorgeous aural vistas. How he’s

the most patient impatient creator I’ve ever known. How he digs and digs with a song until

he hits bedrock, then he scratches at it some more, until his fingers are bleeding and sore,

until he finds an even more subterranean place for the song to go. It’s impossible to know;

each album is its own rabbit’s hole for the creator. Who can fathom how far into their own

personal underworld an artist must descend to give us under an hour of our listening lives?

And who can calculate how much that hour of art means to the receiver who responds to

it?

 

If Thumbtacks + Glue is fundamentally about construction – the hope that building

something with all your heart and fingerprints matters to someone, somewhere – it’s

because it’s fundamentally about bonds: the ones that hold us to each other, all the

promises we make to honour the primal structures of human connection, our shared

oversoul. We’ll hold it together. We’ll build something together.

 

Connectivity is supposedly the name of the 21st century game, which may be why a misfit

Alberta boy heard a call of kinship that took him to another continent, miles away from

the big cerulean Prairie sky, its palette of neon yellow canola and bleached wheat and

sage, and its endless sprawl of big box stores and samey suburban split-levels. He dreamt

of this other world, a wildly romantic Bohemia, and having reached its old European

stomping grounds and finding only remnants, decided to rebuild. You don’t have to escape

reality so much as be your own avatar to make it happen. You are your own Second Life.

 

The result of this sojourn is Thumbtacks + Glue. So sweet; so aching. Every note and word

feels inevitable, yet takes you completely by surprise. I dare you to hear the pivot in the

middle of ‘Sufferin’ Suckatash’ when the song billows from a Spanish-inflected pop song

into a knee-bendingly elating statement of love and not be moved. Darkly glossy female

voices – heavenly choir, muses, or Greek chorus? – raise the stakes of a childhood game of

selection spilled into adulthood in ‘Red Rover, Red Rover’. The title track is a bristling

lullaby that recapitulates the kind of Everyperson ponderings, dark and light, of countless

sleepless nights. Even the spaces on the record are eloquent, pauses for feeling to

interpolate.

 

The melodic madness of it all! Oh, the fear and the glory in declaring yourself; be it to the

one you love or an unknown listener you hope recognizes you, and recognizes himself or

herself in you and what you make.

 

I am here, we are all here!

 

And, further, these exact words of Mark’s from the album’s opener:

“You are the reason I sing.”

 

Yes, you.

lineup

Mark Andrew of the Hamiltons Patron
Annalea Sordi wunderkind
Michael Gratton bass
Kenna Burima keys
Foon Yap violence
Daren Powell drums
Peter Moersch guitar
Aimee-Jo Benoit chanteuse

influences

pianos rusting in country fields
quiet cabins warmed by woodstoves
snow falling on dead trees
superheros running over glaciers
water falling on hot rocks
Thumbtacks and Glue
Boompa Records
February, 2013
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Video

A Moment's Peace for Mary Christa O'Keefe 3:59

A Moment's Peace for Mary Christa O'Keefe

from Treasury Library Canada

The Accident 3:46

The Accident

Woodpigeon stopped by CBC Vancouver to record "The Accident" for Green Tracks on an imaginative set-up of ambient percussion from marbles in bottles, and a wine glass played with an old bow!?

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