Amelia

After All - unedited version
(edited version originally published in Static Multimedia.com )

EDITOR'S NOTE: Several weeks ago, we sent Neil the latest album by Amelia on the idea that he should write down his impressions of the music. He agreed, and then proceeded to disappear as deadlines came and went, phone calls were unreturned, emails left undelivered and nobody has any idea where he's gone. Yesterday, I received this collection of Jigsaw ramblings in my email box, which just might shed some clue as to Mr. Kull's current whereabouts. Should any of you find Neil, please contact me immediately, as he still owes us another article.

It's Tuesday and I'm sitting on the pier, a handful of people dash around other people on this early afternoon. Surprisingly enough, the birds are still around... one or two anyway. However, the boats are all gone having been taken to warmer pastures down south. The town has few tourists now as all the hot topics begin to cool down and begin to look for some companionship for the upcoming winter.

God, this breeze is horrid, pushing me deep into my jacket... I've gotta get out of this freezing wind and get a warm drink in me. Hmm... maybe some Irish cofee... yeah, that sounds about right. Man, first warm door I see, I'm going in.

Better than Sleeping Alone at this almost-complete dive in the coldest side of the street when only those desperate to get out of the apartment will seek entertainment in this tiny bar. Young urbanites stumble in unpredictably alongside die-hard locals, unaware that they are about to discover an extraordinary performance. Just a few strands of Christmas lights, a small, cramped stage... suddenly, Amelia is there.

Needle sits on the record... a sampled guitar taps out of a boombox... the lights come up as the velvet voiced Teisha Belgerson turns to you and begins so sing, casually floating over the sound of the bar as conversation stops and everyone turns to listen, swiftly entranced by the perfectly arranged musical accompaniment. Scott Weddle's delicate layers of guitar swim around Richard Cuellar's deceptively complex percussion, creating lines and angles of sound... transparent yet immovable... the bassline paints around the structure ... strong vivd notes with their attack tempered by Jesse Emerson's casually delicate control. The edge is subtle, yet it's there... Et Vous... keeping you a little off kilter as it seduces you. Complex, subtle, simple, graceful, hauntingly sexy and the cigarette is lit... the candles are fresh.. the night is just beginning even though it seems later as the sun sets so damn early now.. no more running around until 4 am unless I want to carry an umbrella and a coat.

I'm watching people wander by in the tens, twenties... hundreds. The rain is turning to snow and we say a little prayer to St James while Amelia's sound sinks into the bar crowd. There's an impression.. the heads in the room turn... the air sparkles with excitement as Amelia effortlessly weaves together elements of flamenco, Celtic and jazz to create a stunning emotional impact on the imagination. Blackbird Pie percussion clings and clacks, bringing you to a carnival's after hours, when the performers are letting their hair down with a bassline that gets the gypsy girls dancing around the fire... I could listen to this song all day. Bittersweet with an edge that sneaks up on you... taps the base of your spine...slowly building into the climax... and astounding mix of guitar and organ spirals out of the speakers.. raw and fierce.. playful and incredibly intent... infused with a sense that we're making beauty out of casual, everyday items lying around. Making a new form of urban blues music: an observation of the cold city surrounding us, and noting how we work together in order to view the spaces between us. I Read the News Today, the humanity in everthing we touch, see, hear...

Background lights fade as the spotlight narrows to Teisha's face. The band in darkness.. a piano sighs alongside her voice. Conversation rises a little since people always use the slower songs to grab a drink. Glasses tinkle as people mutter to one another "yea.. these guys are great.. I like them... they're really good.." Completely blind to the irony of voicing appreciation while not actually listening at this very moment... which is traditionally rude yet completely unsurprising considering nobody seems to actually listen to music anymore these days. Rebel that I am, I sharpen and focus on the lyrics... the sounds... to listen thru the ambiance, and hear All But the Sea.

Once in France, we were in a different room - a penthouse lounge with a 360 degree view. We watch each other in the reflections on the windows, creating thousands of portals all reflecting and multiplying our stories. High society suits alongside lush, minimalist designer gowns reveal the young money invite-only affair, where everyone is someone special - or just want to be. Yet all are relaxed and appreciative of this rare jewel called Amelia. This delicate combination of musicians gathered together in order to perform these remarkable songs - such brilliant arrangements! Such wonderful textures! I hear a chord structure which reminds me of the Beatles... simple, subdued, impressive. The Last Pariah.

Cannonball makes me light another cigarette - but in the good way. I feel 'cool' listening to this music, and in the movies, cool people always seem to have a cigarette. Bogart, Brando, all would be comfortable here as I sit in my own little private reel, basking in the pleasure of a truly stylistic moment. I wonder - how often is the world so casually, randomly nice? I just stepped in to this place to maybe get out of the weather, but I'm Happy After All. Throughout the performance a melancholy tint swirls and mingles around the room... yet there's a playfulness to the sound. Amelia closes their sophomore set with a relaxed, slow shuffle which thanks you for coming, said their glad you came to hear a band "so confused...so bridled with fear... and it looks like I'll be happy after all." Am I hearing that correctly? Delightful. Simply delightful.

It's always a delight whenever a performer breaks down the so-called 'fourth wall', reaching out past the limitations of the medium and effectively talking directly to you, the listener, in words you cannot ignore. Teisha's vocals are passionate, solid, simple yet alluring... drawing you into depth of sound that flows and ripples like velvet in the wind. Emerson's rhythmic timing on bass, pianos, organs is remarkably tight - a perfect compliment to Weddle's magical guitar deliciously peering through Cuellar's percussive structure. And those lyrics... so haunting... intelligent... I wasn''t expecting to have the world give me a present today. I wasn't expecting to enjoy this band so much - to relax and smile, applaud and truly enjoy every moment that this group is playing. This is one of those magic moments that we remember, and I suspect such feelings follow this Portland, Oregon combo around regularly. Amelia's music is darkly playful and hauntingly seductive - which leaves a powerful impression on the imagination. In these days of prefabricated synth arrangements and uninspiring lyrics, it's a royal treat to find a group like Amelia. They don't happen often enough, and I'm grateful to have been given the chance to discover their work.