Brooklyn-based indie folk/pop outfit The Eastern Stars is a band transfixed into another time and space, a simpler era both in American history and in their own personal lives. Hence the title of July 5th, 1961, a date on which nothing of political or social significance occurred, yet a date on which everything imaginable happened: birth, death, tragedy, baseball, and slugging back to work with Holiday hangovers.

Rob Corradetti and Kaia Wong provide dualing lead vocals on several songs, often with adorable consequences. Infused with equal parts Galaxie 500, Elliott Smith, Beat Happening, July 5th, 1961 should provide an afternoon lift.

“Like Kerouac hanging out with The Carpenters.” There it is. My vote for p.r. line of the year. I didn’t bother reading the rest of it after coming across that winner. It could have said like Kerouac hanging out with The Carpenters with 10 jugs of wine and lines and lines of cocaine backstage with Van Halen. We’ll never know. We’re going to ignore that little gem.

The Eastern Stars, Rob Corradetti and Kaia Wong, play this folksy psychedelic style rock. It’s delicate, intimate and engaging. It’s not quite the same words I use to describe the Carpenters or Kerouac. It’s great late night or early morning music. It’s also great for destressing at the cubicle.

The Eastern Stars is the duo consisting of Rob Corradetti and Kaia Wong, better known for their work in the band Mixel Pixel. Rob and Kaia recorded this album on an analogue 8-track recorder in 2004… but the results of those recording sessions are only now seeing the light of day. July 5th, 1961 features eleven tracks, most of which are soft and subtle pop compositions. The duo names a wild variety of influences including The Mamas and the Papas, Galaxie 500, Heavenly, The Shaggs, and Pink Floyd (!). Obviously an artistic project created purely out of the joy of making music, this album is simultaneously peculiar and soothing. Top picks: They Know What To Do, Money Money We Want Yours, In Russian Blue, Jail Bait Baby. (Rating: very good)

Paul Grégoire est un drôle d’oiseau; un de ces durs à cuire que, jamais, l’on ne mettra en cage. Fuyant comme la peste les itinéraires fléchés, et brûlant à grand renfort de rires carnassiers tous les feux rouges de la création, Paul Grégoire est un ovni décapant. Chanteur dégingandé, amateur d’alcools forts et trébuchants, saxophoniste hasardeux (à côté James Chance c’est du Mozart!), doté d’un humour féroce et d’une tendresse voilée, il y a du Bobby Lapointe dans ses histoires absurdes et dérapantes, du Red dans sa voix éraillée et du jazz dans ses reprises hilarantes de standards (Les feuilles mortes, Only You, Every Time We Say Goodbye…). Bref, un joyeux bordel organisé par quelques musiciens amis et familiers du collectif Ambiances Magnétiques (Michel F Côté, Jean Derome, Robert Langlois, René Lussier). Et comme chaque torchon trouve sa guenille, comme le chante si bien Grégoire, nul doute que de ce côté de l’Atlantique, quelques hurluberlus notoires sauront s’amouracher de la poésie lunaire et absurde de notre barde québécois. Hic hic hic hourra!

Voici une musique sans querelle, sans parti pris agressif. Qu’elle soit élaborée électroniquement (une guitare par ci, une clarinette samplée par là) ne change rien à l’affaire; rien ne se désarticule ici, tout se distille avec gourmandise, élégance et évidence. Les balayages se construisent par petites touches et s’ils envahissent l’espace, ce n’est pas par orgueil ou par désir de marquer un territoire mais parce que la musique devaint en passer par là pour atteindre (attendre) le silence. Le voici, ce silence, dense, constructif, troué de quelques imperceptibles soubresauts. Il reviendra plus tard, s’ouvrant alors à des soleils bienveillants, des astres filtrants.

Cette musique possède son rhytme, sa navigation. Je ne saurais dire si elle est lente, hypnotique ou cabossée. Ce que je sais, c’est qu’elle s’engage avec sincérité dans des bras de fleuve aux destinées secrètes et protectrices. A mettre entre toutes les oreilles.

[…] Luckily, in the rest of the [Festival] program, aside from some pieces which were merely well-crafted and were more appropriate compulsory “New Music” exercises for a subscription-series concert than for a new music festival, there were also some overwhelming moments. One of them was the string quartet Gradients of Detail by the Berlin-based Canadian Chiyoko Szlavnics, performed by the outstanding Bozzini Quartet from Quebec, who successfully realised the rather simple glissando-processes as free flowing moments musicaux, which are not apparent when referring to the conceptual idea, but which have been intensively developed from graphically-notated progressions by the composer. A twenty-minute enigma for the ears, one which never allowed our attention to slacken.