By Karen Aney (The Cascade) – Email
Print Edition: April 11, 2012
Craig Cardiff is a Canadian folk musician who hails from Waterloo, Ontario. He’s a practiced veteran of the music scene; he began releasing albums way back in 1996, with no unnaturally large break in between then and now. His latest release is the Juno-nominated Floods & Fires. It’s his first Juno nomination, but his previous work has been ground-breaking in less conventional ways; one album was released with an extra CD of sample tracks so fans could help spread his music around and another was recorded entirely using Octopod – yes, an app on the iPhone.
Floods & Fires represents a recording process that occurred entirely in different rooms of Cardiff’s home. It was produced independently, with no outside funding from a record label or government grant. Presales of the album kept the recording process afloat when it would have otherwise stopped – indicating the loyal following Cardiff has accumulated.
That following is well deserved. Though his music is patently innovative in presentation, it perfectly embodies a traditional folk sound. This album is thoroughly Canadian: French lyrics are thrown in casually (they’ll make you shiver with happiness when you realize you actually understood them), wide open spaces are constantly referred to in the lyrics, and any mention of geography has names only a Canadian would recognize – such as the song titled “Brandon from Ithaca.” Despite the Canadian folk flavour, this album is far from stale.
The first single, “The Very Last Night of the End of the World,” begins with sparse rhythms and a haunting riff of a female voice. Over that base, Cardiff’s voice announces itself unapologetically, forcefully speaking and gradually sinking into a more melodic tone. The song progresses, and though the instrumentation is full, the track does not get bogged down. Drums, a synthesizer, electric guitar, piano, bass guitar, a chorus of voices – the fact that the song still reads as sparse and unoffending points towards masterful arranging and engineering.
The second track “Safe Here” is a meditation on the state of affairs in our large country. It asks “Am I needed here?” and answers “Yes, you are” – the overwhelming message is, as the title suggests, that despite Canada’s vast size, each citizen matters and deserves to be protected. It’s a heavy message and suggests considerations of warfare, economics and more. However, Cardiff chose to approach this message with an upbeat tone and a sound evocative of east-coast Irish ex-pat flavour, minus the fiddle. His voice remains solemn, pulling the song away from trite territory. Despite the solemn voice, the song is upbeat and optimistic, a sure mood elevator if you don’t listen too hard to the lyrics.
The album progresses in a similar fashion, ranging inoffensively from upbeat to solemn and back again, all while staying firmly in the folk category. A gem of the track that shouldn’t be lost is track 12 (there are 16, by the way – how’s that for value?). This song is called “Wait, Maybe Love,” and it’s thoroughly lovely. The sound is pure: Cardiff’s voice and an unobtrusive acoustic guitar. It’s a gentle melody, evocative of hours spent around a campfire or sitting on a cliff staring out at the ocean. The lyrics, though, are achingly intimate: they reveal whispered conversations and even explore a clichéd train station in the rain. The words are so sincere that the listener can’t help but imagine they’re inspired by a personal story. Yet, the lyrics are composed artfully enough that they’re not alienating to the average listener. A sole complaint for the song would be that it ends too abruptly – after the voice fades out, there’s a scant few chords before the track ends. It leaves the song open-ended, which may have been intentional – but some ears will be left wanting just a little bit more of the beautiful acoustic melody.
Very rarely these days is an album actually worth purchasing in full. Artists take the recording opportunity as pressure to make sure every possible facet of their audience is appealed to, but so often tracks are ineffectual for even an open-minded listener. Floods & Fire stays true to its core sound, and though it explores many facets of that sound, it stays completely coherent. The album is upbeat, intimate, laid-back, thoroughly Canadian and a great listen – every single track. If you’re looking for some new music this summer that you’ll be proud to share with your friends, this is it.