Let's start with one you don't know about.
Thanksgiving | Welcome Nowhere (2004)"I want to be welcome."
About a year ago I was having what I liked to call sleeping problems, though I probably should have named them "lack of sleep from the cushion under my back being a dirty apartment floor because I just had to pursue my dream" problems. I was in a brand new city, with a brand new recession about to hit and a brand new high of job losses, my laptop and some really nice headphones I got for cheap off of amazon a couple months prior. In truth, I'm lucky I found Adrian Orange little gem of an album. Thanksgiving's Welcome Nowhere quickly became my closest friend. The album opens as cold and uninviting as songs can go, but it's opening lyric is one of wishing to be welcomed. Here was someone else just looking for a friend.
"I'm gonna spend the coldest night under a waterfall
and watch the white water roll off me."
The album itself is one that is still shrouded in mystery for me. Every time I listen, I'm overwhelmed by the sense of propriety between the microphone and the artist. Here the singer seems to lay out his deepest thoughts and admiration, but still gives off no clue what he might actually be sensing. From the get go, there's a resonating sense that what you're listening to will never be duplicated, no matter who tries.
Welcome Nowhere is the bedroom artists swan song. It actually sounds good; produced to the perfect point of letting the music talk for it self and not detract because of ever present lo-fi nature. It feels as if you're walking next to just another guy singing into a microphone, but this time it's actually worth lending your ear: the words from the troubadour actually have meaning again!
"Come gather round grains of sand on the shore.
Get in my shoes and socks and never leave.
I've spent the night before this ocean,
And now my heart beats with the waves."
"I'm gonna spend the coldest night under a waterfall
and watch the white water roll off me."
The album itself is one that is still shrouded in mystery for me. Every time I listen, I'm overwhelmed by the sense of propriety between the microphone and the artist. Here the singer seems to lay out his deepest thoughts and admiration, but still gives off no clue what he might actually be sensing. From the get go, there's a resonating sense that what you're listening to will never be duplicated, no matter who tries.
"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid."
Welcome Nowhere is the bedroom artists swan song. It actually sounds good; produced to the perfect point of letting the music talk for it self and not detract because of ever present lo-fi nature. It feels as if you're walking next to just another guy singing into a microphone, but this time it's actually worth lending your ear: the words from the troubadour actually have meaning again!
"Come gather round grains of sand on the shore.
Get in my shoes and socks and never leave.
I've spent the night before this ocean,
And now my heart beats with the waves."
