BloFiYoToRea. Or something like that…

Well well well well well,

What do we have here? A blog from Minimax not trying to force a mix down our throats, or some other ghastly act of self promotion. Blow me down!

So, to business! This month (November, blimey the days just fly by, don’t they!) I’m taking part in NaBloWriMoFoShoYo -  National Blog Writing Month to it’s mother (forgive me, I made the last three ‘o’s up.) – which will see me taking on the seemingly impossible feat of writing a blog post everyday! SRSLY! A quick scroll down the page will give you a fairly good idea of my usual posting frequency… You get the idea. But enough preamble, let us get the meat in this pie!

This weekend has been a fantastic few days for discoveries. Today I dug out a CD that’s been in my possession for several months now. Sitting beside my bed, in suitcases, on my computer desk, constantly teetering just on the edge of action, but never quite making it out of the case and in into my ears. I was sent it by a rather nice chap who went by the name ‘Stanton Delaplane’.  I encountered him way back in the midst of time, at a gig at Start the Bus…

Gomez were headlining, Tom and Ben doing an acoustic set as it happens, which was bloody brilliant, but another story all together. The support hadn’t been announced, but being the keen music geek I am, I got there nice and early hoping to find some new musical loveliness. And it was loveliness I came to, oh my brothers, but not the sort I was expecting.

When I arrived, Stanton Delaplane was mid way through a set of beautiful guitar drone and a multi-part harmonies with himself. God bless loop stations. He very kindly offered to send anyone in the audience a CD, if they gave him their address. Luckily I managed to find a felt tip pen and a scrap of paper, and scrawled my address in a blur of red letters that instantly expanded to twice their size the minute they fell onto the paper.

A few weeks later and still no CD, I assumed that my note had been  illegible, until one morning I came down to find a package waiting for me, containing an EP entitled “Mandibular Sweetmeats” a curious name if ever I heard one. Unfortunately, the CD arrived at a time when things were a little hectic in my life. I was moving house what seemed like three times a week, and spent the majority of the summer living out of suitcases and boxes. The disc got put aside and spent the next three months being tossed about, dug out for a definite hearing, then lost again in the mess that inevitably follows where ever I rest my head for more than a few days. Until today.

On the bus on the way back from town, the words Mandibular Sweetmeats popped into my head, but I couldn’t think why. I narrowed it down to being the name of an album or EP, but with absolutely no idea who the artists was. I got home and googled the name, and up pops Stanton Delaplane. After a few minutes of rooting about, I finally found the CD and put it into my computer. I’m pleased to report that it was definitely worth the wait.

A baroque folk mix of beautifully defined guitar lines, wall of sound layers of drone and some really fantastic harmonies, this is good stuff. Anyhow, this is the part where I will inevitably fall into painful journalistic clichés and sickly sweet arse kissing if I write anymore, so I’ll leave it to you to try and form an opinion on his sound, based on the tracks up on his myspace. You never know, if you write to him he might point you in the direction to pick up a CD with his music on it.

http://www.myspace.com/stantondelaplane

I was also going to tell you about a cellist I saw at the fagoween (all will be explained) party last night, but unfortunately I haven’t got a clue what her name was… I shall endeavor to find out and include a bit about her in tomorrows post. I’m sure you can probably wait until then.

TTFN Biatchiz.

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